Hourglass
by hottygurl7
Summary: Rosalie's in an abusive relationship with Royce, one night he takes it too far and nearly kills her. Bella's the best friend who always picks up the pieces. The only question is: will they both make it out alive? Full Summary inside. All Human- NON-Slash - Rated M: for DARK themes. 18 and older, please.
1. Prologue

**Full Summary: **Rosalie's in an abusive relationship with Royce, one night he takes it too far and nearly kills her. Bella's the best friend who always picks up the pieces. The only question is: will they both make it out alive? (**Non-Slash**)  
>There are two types of people in this world: Good &amp; Evil. Kind &amp; Cruel. How far would you go to protect someone you love? Is revenge always as sweet as it seems?<p>

**Warning:** Dark themes. Abuse, rape, and other extremely difficult topics. This story is _not_ for the faint of heart.

**Disclaimer:** SM owns all things Twilight related. I own the plot.

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><p>"Life's like an hourglass glued to the table."<br>**_- Breathe, by: Anna Nalick_**

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><p><strong>Hourglass:<strong>

**Prologue**

_**-Rosalie POV-**_

Fear. It's present in every single waking second of my life. Every time I feel him get close to me, my body freezes and fear trickles up my spine. It hasn't always been like this, though; there was a time—much earlier in our relationship—where I saw myself settling down with him, marrying him, bearing his children.

It's hard to think I could have been so trusting, so naïve, so blind.

I suppose that's what love is though, _blind_.

I will never forget the night it happened…the night he almost killed me.

He came home drunk, shouting and accusing me of flirting with random men. He said he was going to make me pay, and that he'd teach me not to be such a "stupid little slut." I'd always been an "undeserving whore" in his eyes, just a pretty face, too stupid for anyone to actually love me.

For a long time, I believed him. That's why I stayed for so long.

He has been beating me for months, but it has never gone this far.

It's usually a slap here, a shove there; sometimes he'll grab me by my hair or my wrist. I've always tolerated it, thinking it was the alcohol and cocaine, and that if he could just get clean, we could be happy together.

I have been lying. Lying to myself, and lying to others.

I was wrong to think there was any hope for us—dead wrong.

Sitting here in the hospital while my battered body tries to heal itself, I know I need to get away from him, to free myself. I just don't know how to do that and keep myself and my loved ones safe at the same time.

Royce is an evil, soulless man with a black heart.

He'll do anything to get his way…even if it means committing murder.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This will be a drabble fic. Some posts will be almost 1k, but they'll be shorter in the beginning. As we progress you'll see decent sized chapters - for a drabble that is.

I'll be uploading weekly as long as nothing comes up. I'm at least seven chapters into this and have more in a side document. So, we should be good for a bit. I totally understand if you don't want to wait for the weekly updates and just add it to the favorites for now. I'd probably do it too. I just know that I'm not a daily poster, so I'm not going to promise you guys something I'm incapable of doing. If that makes sense? I babble sometimes.

This story is **not** slash. The only reason it's marked as a Rosalie/Bella story is because the POV's will alternate between the two.

I hope you all enjoy.

xxoo,

Missy

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><p>The following songs helped me with inspiration for this story:<p>

**Breathe:**  
>http: www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=jHEj4cRhm3E

**Rest In Pieces:**  
>http: www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=pRWwB4v4CfA


	2. Chapter 1

**Remember all that graphic violence I warned you about at the beginning of the last chapter? Yeah, it's happening now. Move forward with caution. **

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><p>"Do you feel like a man when you push her around?<br>Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?  
>Well I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's going to end<br>As your lies crumble down, a new life she has found."

**_- Face Down, by: Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_**

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><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter: 1**_

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><p><em><strong>-Rose POV-<strong>_

It's somewhere around 2:00AM, and he's just getting home, drunk, high, and upset about pissing his drug money away on a lousy game of cards.

I'm peacefully asleep in my nice warm bed, when I suddenly jolt awake from feeling two strong hands grip me forcefully and yank me out of bed. I'm quickly thrown to the floor. When I glance up at my assailant, I see that it is Royce, my long term boyfriend. He's glowering down at me with a menacing look in his eyes, and before I know it, he's kicking me in the stomach with his heavy work boots.

Now I'm completely awake, and the fuzzy mindedness is almost completely worn off. I am trying to figure out why this is happening.

_What did I do to deserve this? _

I keep wondering why he's been getting increasingly violent.

"Get up, you dumb slut!" he roars and delivers another swift kick to my ribs. The air whooshes out of me, and I try to fight against the black specks that start to creep up into the outer rim of my vision. My lungs are burning from the pain.

"Please, Royce…_please_, I can't breathe," I plead softly, wheezing, and trying to calm him the best I know how.

Usually, I only have to say his name, and he snaps out of it, apologizing profusely but still explaining why it's _my_ fault that all of this happens. Usually, he'll speak softly, stroke my hair, and assure me that he'll be better. He'll talk of rehab, and counseling, and…a bunch of empty promises that he never keeps.

Except tonight, nothing is working, everything that usually wakes him up—isn't working. I'm quickly realizing that I am in grave danger, and he's much too strong for me. It's useless to fight against him.

I yelp as he yanks me up to a standing position by my hair and slams me face first into the bedroom wall. I can feel and hear every single root give way as he rips it from my scalp.

If the blood that oozes down my face and onto my nightgown is any indication, Royce has just broken my nose. By this point, I'm in survival mode. I try to contemplate a plan to escape. I need to play dead or just let him do what he needs to do, and maybe he'll leave me alone. If he finally leaves, I'll get out of here and get help, and be done with him once and for all—I have to get away from him. If I don't, he is going to kill me.

The realization that he could very well kill me tonight settles in, and my body trembles in fear.

"You whore. You think you can't breathe now? I'll show you what it's like to not be able to breathe!" he snarls as he whips me around, slamming my back against the wall and wrapping his hands around my neck.

The drywall cracks and splinters as my frail frame slams into it powerfully. He grips my throat, roughly pulling me forward, only to slam me back against the wall again. Tears roll freely down my face as he repeatedly slams me against the wall, until I'm sure there is a perfect outline of my body in the cracked plaster.

I can feel my ribs and shoulder blades give way as he repeats his movements. My skin is tender and is welting instantly from the force. Each blow makes the pain significantly worse. My head is cracking off the plaster, and I can feel the instant headache creep up over me. Each impact feels as though I've fallen off of a fifty story building onto hard, unforgiving pavement.

He's much too strong for me.

When Royce is satisfied that I am not going to put up a fight, he focuses his attention back on my throat, gripping it tightly and squeezing it with all of his might.

I'm choking, gasping, gagging, and crying. My arms try to move up and push him away, but the pain is practically unbearable in my shoulder blades. I finally get my hands up to his face, and I try shoving him away, but his grip tightens even further on my throat.

I beg him to stop, tell him I love him, that I'll do anything for him. I promise not to tell anyone…nothing helps. Nothing wakes him up. It's like he's possessed and will stop at nothing until the last breath of life escapes me.

My life is literally in his hands, and the only thing he seems to want is to incapacitate me. Permanently.

Finally, he releases my throat so he can cover my mouth with one hand, and he moves the other under my nightgown, touching my thighs and moving up to the apex between my thighs with extreme violence.

This terrifyingly horrific night quickly morphs into every woman's worst nightmare.

Before I realize what he is about to do, he is already doing it. He tears off my panties, tossing them across the room as he spreads my legs and forces himself between them.

"Royce, no," I plead, sobbing against his fingers as he presses them hard against my lips. I can feel my lips cracking open by the sheer force of his palm pressing against them.

Royce is raping me…and he will probably kill me tonight.

_Dear God, please watch over Bella and Charlie, and my family._

I close myself off as I start to pray.

As he gets rougher, I fall deeper inside of myself, fully immersed in an out-of-body experience. It feels like my soul is floating above my body. I can see everything that is happening to me, but I am powerless to stop it.

My mind screams at him to stop, but my body sags in an unresponsive heap in his arms.

_Stop touching me, you mother fucker! _

_How dare you take the one last shred of dignity I have left! _

When he finally finishes pleasuring himself inside of me, he drops me to the floor like a discarded piece of trash.

It is then that I feel myself return to my body. He delivers a not-so-powerful kick to my leg and doesn't spare me a backwards glance as he storms out of the bedroom and out of our apartment.

As soon as I hear our front door open, I crawl as best I can to my phone. It's charging on the nightstand beside the bed.

When I reach it, I know exactly which number to call.

It isn't 911.

It's not my parents.

_Ring…ring…ring…ring… "Leave a message." _

I choke out a sob when the voicemail picks up. Panic spreads through me as my consciousness starts to slip, and I quickly start slipping into shock. My body is trembling with unused adrenaline, and I know I'm going to pass out soon.

_Oh my God, what if he comes back to kill me? _

"Bella! Bella, please, _help __me_…" I whimper into the receiver.

Then everything goes black.

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><p><strong>AN: Link to the <strong>**Hourglass banner is on my profile, made by Heather Dawn. **

**Thank you for reading. **

**xxoo,**

**Missy **

**P.S. Thank you to Project Team Beta, MzBionic, CaraNo, and One Brave Lamb for betaing, proof-reading, and tolerating my ass. lol They all had a part in helping with this. Thank you ladies! Much love. xxoo.**


	3. Chapter 2

**So, guess who didn't even realize yesterday was Sunday? Yup, I'm an asshole. You're getting two updates today anyway. I apologize! **

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><p>"When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done.<br>Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.  
>Don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memory.<br>Leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest.

Forgetting, all the hurt inside you've learned to hide so well.

Pretending, someone else can come and save me from myself.  
>I can't be who you are."<p>

**_- Leave Out All The Rest, by: Linkin Park_**

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><p><strong>Hourglass <strong>

**Chapter: 2 **

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><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

Ever since I was a little girl, my parents claimed I had a sixth sense. They said I could sense when something big was about to happen before it even occurred. I never exactly predicted anything or told a fortune, but I always felt change coming. I'd dream restlessly, or my mood would be irregular—signaling a significant change in our future.

And _that __night,_ as I lay down in bed with an upset stomach and an underlying feeling of dread, I knew something was going to happen. Something immense was going to change my life. I only wish that I could have known what exactly was about to happen…then maybe I could have prevented it.

I could have stopped each domino before it fell—each chain before it reacted—each shoe before it dropped. Figuratively speaking, of course.

I just wish I could have stopped it, saved her, something. _Anything._

Anything but sleep in my warm, safe, peaceful childhood bed while she was being battered, assaulted, and almost beaten to death by that worthless piece of shit.

But hindsight really is 20/20, isn't it?

They say you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved—I say, _watch __me_.


	4. Chapter 3

"How long have I been in this storm?  
>So overwhelmed by the oceans shapeless form.<br>Water's getting harder to tread,  
>with these waves crashing over my head.<br>If I could just see you, everything would be alright.  
>If I could see you, this darkness would turn to light.<br>And I would walk on water, and you will catch me if I fall.  
>And I will got lost into your eyes, and everything will be alright.<br>And everything will be alright."

**- Storm, by: Lifehouse**

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><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter: 3**_

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><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

"You have one new message."

"_Bella! __Bella, __please, _help me…" Rosalie's pained voice whimpers before the line goes dead.

The world stops. Icy cold fingers of fear creep up my spine, suffocating me, and causing goose bumps to explode all over my skin. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I snap out of my fear-induced trance and throw my bedroom door open so quick I almost knock my dad, Charlie, over in my haste.

"Bells! What the hell? Are you okay? I was just gonna get some water," he sputters ramblingly, trapped between his bedroom door and the wall next to the bathroom.

Tremors wrack my body as I latch onto his arm, tears finally falling from my eyes. "Dad! Something's happened, it's Rosalie! I have to go." My head shakes back and forth as he tries to steady me, and he holds me until I'm done speaking. I keep trying to pull away so I can go to her, but his grip is unrelenting.

"Shh. Hold on, Bells. What do you mean something's happened? Was she in a wreck? I didn't get a call from the station," he states, not quite awake yet, and probably thinking I'm completely insane.

"I-I don't think so. I don't know, Dad. I have to go—I have to go to her." He finally notices the fear in my eyes and lets me go as soon as he's sure I won't fall down the stairs.

"You don't think he…" he trails off as my bare feet slap against the wooden stairs.

"I don't know. I'll call you as soon as I know if she's okay," I call as I reach the foyer and grab my keys.

"I'll get dressed and meet you there, you shouldn't be going alone," he says gruffly as he runs back in his room.

I'm relieved that he doesn't ask me to wait for him, because I can't.

I need to find her right away.

I start my truck and peel out of the driveway. I head off in the direction of Rosalie and Royce's apartment, which is across town, but in Forks, that's only a five to seven minute drive.

I make it there in three.

I throw myself out of my truck, not even taking the time to effectively slam the door shut as my feet pound off the pavement, in the direction of her apartment entrance. The rain is pelting down in hard sheets, and that, combined with my speed and lack of agility, causes me to wipe out on the curb out front. It only slows me down for a second, and I push off the ground with my hands and run toward the door again.

My body is numb, purely running on adrenaline and fear.

Deep down I know whatever has happened isn't an accident, and I know that Royce is involved.

I hurl the building door open and run up the flight of stairs to her door.

I'm absolutely terrified when I see it open, like whoever exited could care less who walks in.

I flip the light switch on, and I notice that there's blood on the front door handle.

_Oh please, God, no. Please, God, let her be okay. She has to be okay. _

I search the living room and kitchen area; there is no sign of her.

I swiftly run into the bedroom, and all of my worst fears are confirmed.

_"Rosalie!" _I cry out as I drop down beside her and feel for a pulse. She has one, but it's faint, and I'm terrified of losing my best friend. I can tell she's lost a lot of blood, and her breaths are much too shallow. She's in shock. I pull her cell phone from her clutched hand and call my dad immediately.

_"Rose? __Is __Bella __there? __Are __you __okay? __She __left __her __cell__…__" _he answers, but I cut him off before he can continue.

I know I sound hysterical because I'm crying and screaming into the phone. "Dad! I need you to get here right away, Rosalie's hurt! She's been attacked…beaten…I have to call 911! Just please, Dad! Get here now!" I scream and wail into the phone before I hang up with shaky fingers and instantly dial 911.

_"911. __What __is __your __emergency?" _the female operator answers.

"My friend, she's been attacked…beaten. Please, we need an ambulance right away!" I'm still hysterical and know that they probably can't understand me, but the adrenaline, fearful tremors, and choking sobs are uncontrollably wracking my body. I'm powerless to stop it.

"I don't know when he'll be back here! Please, please get here right now!" I urge, scared for Rosalie's life and of what _I'd_ do if that motherfucker came back here.

_Shoot him. I'd definitely fucking shoot him._

I give her the address and apartment number, and she says there are police and a rescue squad on the way. She makes me check to make sure Rosalie is breathing, and I tell her she is, but just barely.

I look around and see all of the blood. It's all over the wall; the once-beige carpet is drenched in it. Rosalie's clothes are too, but they're also torn to shreds. I'm told not to move her, because I could do more damage.

I put the cell phone on speaker and lay down next to Rosalie, facing her and brushing the bloody hair away from the right side of her face.

"Hold on, Rosie, please." I choke out another sob. "Please, Rose, I can't live without you; you're the most important person in my life. Please, Rose, I love you so much, you're my best friend, my sister, really. Please. We're supposed to grow old together, two old ladies with dogs 'cause we both hate cats. Oh God, Rosalie, what has he done to you? I promise he'll never hurt you again. Please, please, Rose, just hold on." My whimpering is interrupted by Charlie running in.

I look up at him, and dread slices through me at the look in his eyes.

"Save her, Daddy, help her!" I bawl, losing my composure again.

He kneels down to check for a pulse and to check her breathing again. Once he confirms she's still alive, he snatches up the cell phone to inform the operator that he is at the scene and ends the call.

"Stay with her, Bells. I need to get my deputies over here and out looking for _Royce_." He growls while he spits Royce's name, and turns to the door.

We hear sirens approach, and he runs outside to direct the first responders inside. Red and white light flashes through the window in the bedroom, and it makes my stomach churn as I stare at my best friend lying lifelessly across the floor.

"Hold on, Rose, help is here. We're going to get him, Rose. We're going to save you. You're safe now, Rose, I promise," I murmur, as Dad gently pulls me back so the EMTs can work on her.

When they roll her over, my knees buckle as I see the deep bruising around her throat and the dried blood and hair that is caked to her face. Her nose is already swollen, her left eye is swollen shut, and her lip is busted open.

My dad catches me before I fall, but his grip is firm and only serves to upset me further. I feel the bile rushing up through me, and I dig my nails into his arm, causing his grip to slacken and release me. I turn to go into the bathroom, but the entire apartment is already being taped off as a crime scene, so I quickly run out of the apartment building and collapse on my knees in the grass as I release my stomach contents.

My heaves are powerful and uncontrollable as I choke and gasp on every single emotion coursing through me. Images of her battered body run on repeat in my head, and I don't fight the scream that follows the vomit from my mouth. The rain washes the sticky liquid from my lips and chin as I throw my head back and scream…and scream…and scream again.

I knew better than to let her stay with him.

I knew about the abuse…and the lies…and everything.

_This is all my fault. _

_This could have been prevented. I should have never let her stay—all my fault._

_She could die._

Those thoughts also run on repeat. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for allowing this to happen.


	5. Chapter 4

"Never alone  
>Never alone<p>

I'll be in every beat of your heart as you face the unknown.

Whever you fly, this isn't goodbye.

My love will follow you, stay with you, baby, you're never alone."

**- Never Alone, by: Lady Antebellum & Jim Brickman**

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><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter: 4**_

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><p><strong><em>-Bella POV-<em>**

Suddenly, I feel arms around me and a masculine hand stroking my hair. I recognize the scent as Charlie's, and I turn my face into his neck as I cry and whimper against him.

"It's all my fault, Daddy, it's all my fault. I knew he was hitting her, and I did nothing to stop it. She begged me not to tell. It's all my fault." My voice is scratchy from screaming, and my words are nothing but a hoarse whisper. My throat feels like I've swallowed fire.

"_None_ of this is your fault, Isabella!" he scolds, his own voice laced with grief and emotion. "No one could have prevented this, except for _Royce_, he did this…has been doing this. I wish you would have told me, but you couldn't have stopped it. You need to calm down, or we'll be calling an ambulance for you, too. You're no good to her like this. You have to calm yourself, Bella."

I try to breathe steady breaths, but I'm still really choked up, and my body feels like it's burning. The pain in my heart is unlike anything I've ever felt. I'm filled with dread, and sorrow, and such a deep regret for not putting more effort into extracting her from this horrible situation.

She promised me that he had changed—or was changing—that underneath everything, he was a really good person.

When I finally stopped letting her try to convince me, she'd lie and say she had fallen, that's how her eye got bruised, or she bumped into something and cracked her lip.

I knew they were lies, but I just hoped she'd wake up one day and snap out of it.

Instead he almost killed her…

…and I did nothing.

_Not this time. _

_He will pay for this, whether it's jail or looking down the barrel of a gun, that motherfucker will pay. _

My newly emerging rage helps to snuff out the last of my whimpers, and I pull myself from Charlie's grasp and stand to face him.

"Sorry. I just—I can't take this…it's too much." Irrationally, I find myself trying to explain my behavior. I know it's unnecessary, but I've never felt like this before, and I'm ashamed for not staying beside my best friend when she needed me most.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the stretcher quickly emerging from the building with two medics flanking it, rolling it down the sidewalk toward the ambulance.

"I have to go with her." I start to rush passed Charlie when he catches my arm.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I can take you…" he starts, but I cut him off.

"No. I mean—_yes_, I'll be fine. I have to be with her. Just please, find him," I demand and take off running toward the ambulance.

"Are you family, Miss?" a lanky, hazel-eyed, blond haired medic asks as I approach the door of the ambulance.

"It doesn't matter, I'm going with her," I say firmly.

"You really can't without a relative's permission," he says.

I forcefully cut him off. "Yes, I _really_ can, and I _am_."

"Mike, quit fighting with her and get us to the hospital! We need to get this woman stabilized, and someone should be with her!" a brawny, brown-haired guy yells from Rose's side.

I jump inside and pull the doors shut behind me, slamming them in _Mike's_ face.

I sit on the other side of Rose and softly place my hand over hers.

"You're gonna be okay, Rosie, I promise. I love you so much. I promise you'll be okay. We'll get him. He'll never touch you again," I whisper to her as tears roll down my face.

"Miss, I know you're dealing with a lot right now, but if you know any of her medical information, it will really be useful right now. When we get to the hospital, I'll need you to fill out some paperwork. Do you know if she has any allergies?" His blue eyes gaze at me with nothing but sympathy, and I start getting choked up again.

"Bees…" I say softly.

"Bees?" he asks.

"She's allergic to bees," I rasp through tears.

"Thank you," he says warmly, and continues working on her.

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><p><strong>AN: **

**Who wants Bella to get a shot gun and play hide and go _boom_ with Royce? **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	6. Chapter 5

"I'm goin' home,  
>gonna load my shotgun.<br>Wait by the door, and light a cigarette.  
>He wants a fight,<br>well now he's got one.  
>And he ain't seen me crazy, yet.<p>

Slapped my face,  
>and he shook me like a rag doll.<br>Don't that sound like a real man?  
>I'm gonna show him what a real girls' made of.<p>

Gunpowder and lead."

**_-__ Gunpowder & Lead, by: Miranda Lambert_**

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><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter: 5  
><strong>_

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><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

When we arrive at the hospital, everything happens in a blur. They carefully lower the stretcher from inside the ambulance, and they wheel her into the automatic sliding E.R. doors. The medic who was taking care of Rose speaks to a blond male doctor that intercepts us at the entrance, filling him in on Rose's condition and all of the procedures he has taken so far to stabilize her.

When the doctor asks what happened, the EMT tells him she's been beaten and they share a few words too quietly for me to hear.

I attempt to walk with her beside the stretcher but am held back when they reach the examination room.

"Let go of me, I have to stay with her," I growl without looking behind me to see who is holding me back.

If it's that prick driver, I'll be forced to break his nose. Good thing we're in a hospital.

"Miss, you can't go in there. At the very _least_, she's going to need a blood transfusion, and it needs to be a sterile environment. You're a mess." He says the last part softly, trying not to hurt my feelings. I recognize his voice, it's the nice medic, and I relax minutely.

The blond doctor regards me with sad blue eyes and quickly enters the room where they're working on Rose.

"I need to protect her," I cry softly.

"You _are_ protecting her by staying out here," he says and slowly releases my arms.

I turn to face him and try to calm myself.

"She'll never be safe. As long as he's out there…" I mumble, dazed and mentally exhausted from my inner turmoil.

"You know who did this to her?" he asks, with an edge to his tone.

"Her…_boyfriend_, Royce King. He's hurt her before, just—not like this," I speak dejectedly.

"Hold on a second," he says and turns around as he grabs his cell phone from his pocket and walks out in the direction of the parking lot.

I have to run to catch up to him, because he's walking with quick determined steps. He powers his phone on and presses a number on his speed dial, quickly placing his call.

I know it's rude to listen in on his call, but I need to know what he's doing.

He looks up at me as he waits for his call to go through. He's obviously not surprised to see me standing there.

"Edward, hey, it's Emmett. Listen, I know you were probably asleep or working on a case, but how long until you can get to Forks General?

"No, no, nothing like that. I've got this girl here who came in with a woman that has been beaten pretty bad by her boyfriend, and I think maybe it would be a good idea if you pulled his file and helped the cops find him. His name is…" He turns to me, silently asking me for his name.

"Royce, Royce Jameson King," I bite out, not wanting that filth's name in my mouth.

"Royce J. King," he replies into the phone, nodding at me and giving me a thumbs up.

"Okay. Thanks, man. See you in a bit." He ends his call and takes a step closer to me.

"Thank you, Miss. Now, we should probably get you cleaned up and…" he trails off as he looks down at my feet.

"What?" I ask when he doesn't say anything more.

"Your feet, they're in pretty rough shape. Have you been shoeless all night?" he asks.

"Uh…" I look down and notice that I am, in fact, barefoot. I don't remember putting shoes on before I left my house earlier—actually, I'm pretty sure I didn't.

"Yeah, I guess I have," I say offhandedly, shrugging.

He winces. "_Ouch_, that's gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow. I can already see that your toes are all cut up; the bottoms probably aren't any better." He kneels down to get a better look, and I step away quickly.

"Let me sit down and look at them. I'm sure they're fine," I say to him.

I sit down on a nearby bench and cross my right leg over my left knee, pulling my foot up so I can inspect it.

There's a long gash that runs from my arch to my heel and what looks like road rash in spots all over my foot and the bottom of my toes.

I sigh heavily.

"Yep, that's _definitely_ gonna hurt tomorrow," he says from beside me.

"It's nothing compared to what Rosalie is going through," I can't help but say. Fresh, warm tears begin prickling my eyes.

"Why don't we head inside? I'll grab her paperwork, and you can fill it out while I clean and bandage your feet. I'll also see if I can find something for you to change into." He waves a hand in my direction.

I look down and notice my clothes are ruined. Blood is smeared across my tattered nightshirt and cutoff sweat pants, and they're both sticking to me like a second skin due to the rain.

"Tell me she's going to be okay," I plead desperately, staring off into the parking lot unseeingly.

"I honestly can't guarantee that, Miss, but I really hope so," he responds.

"I should be out there right now looking for him. He deserves everything is coming to him." I clench my fists and bring them up to cover my eyes as tears leak out and down my face.

"I _fucking_ _hate_ him for what he's done to her," I choke out, losing my cool and sobbing helplessly.

* * *

><p><strong>Merry Christmas &amp; Happy Holidays, everyone! <strong>

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	7. Chapter 6

"Love is blind,  
>and it will take over your mind.<br>What you think is love,  
>is truly not.<br>You need to elevate and find.  
>Love is blind.<p>

I don't even know you,  
>and I want you dead.<br>Don't know the facts,  
>but I saw the blood pour from her head.<p>

See I laid down beside her in the hospital bed,  
>and about two hours later, doctors said she was dead.<br>Had the nerve to show up at her mother's house the next day,  
>to come and pay your respects and help the family pray.<br>Even knelt down on one knee and let a tear drop,  
>and before you had a chance to get up, you heard my gun cock."<p>

**_- Love is Blind, by: Eve_**

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass <strong>

_**Chapter: 6**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

Emmett finally talks me into letting him clean my feet. He's surprised when I tell him that it doesn't hurt. Deep down, the lack of pain makes me feel worse. I crave the ache; I want to feel anything besides the constant numbness that has quickly overcome me and settled into my bones.

If I could shoulder Rosalie's pain for her, I would. In a heartbeat. That's the guilty part of my mind talking…the logical, but guilty part.

Then there's the bewildered, outraged part. The part of me that is screaming inside of my mind to find _him _and make him pay for what he did to her. I don't want him to rot in jail, I want him _dead_.

I want him to feel a million times as scared as I'm sure she was when he hurt her.

I want him to hurt every single second, of every minute, of every day—fifty times the pain he put her through.

The part that scares me the most? I want to be the one who delivers it to him.

I want him to fear me and to know that when I find him death is knocking on his door. I want him to know that karma is waiting to dish out all of the bullshit that he's dealt to Rosalie.

"All set," Emmett says as he bunches up the packaging from the sterile pads he used to clean my feet. Both of them are wrapped in gauze and ace bandages, making me look like a damn burn victim.

"Isn't this a little much?" I ask skeptically. My mind is still hazy from my dark thoughts. I don't mean to sound inconsiderate, even though I'm sure I do.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just…isn't this a bit much for a few scrapes?" I amend.

"Some of those cuts are pretty deep, and it's gonna hurt pretty bad to walk tomorrow. You'll thank me later." He gives me a pointed look.

I nod my head at him and quickly stand up from my spot on the bench. We're still sitting in the parking lot of the E.R. entrance. Emmett retrieved his kit from the ambulance before Newton took it back to park it.

"Are you sure it's okay that you didn't ride back with him?" I ask him for the fiftieth time.

"I told you—we're first responders, we've got more guys out there if there's another call. I can stay back here with you for a while. Besides, you looked like you needed a friend," he says softly, nudging my arm with a beefy elbow.

"What I need is a punching bag. Or better yet, Royce's face on a fucking platter. Considering that probably won't happen any time soon, thank you for sticking around." My throat constricts, and I swallow past the tears that are trying to force their way through.

His smile is as warm as his reply. "Anytime."

"You've done so much for me already. If you have to leave soon, I'll understand," I return, letting him know he is under no obligation to sit here with me.

"I told you before; my friend is coming to check this out. I'd like to see where it goes. If that's okay with you?" he replies.

Under any other circumstances, I'd probably call him nosy or tell him to take a hike, but I can tell he's a nice person; he's a genuine person, so I agree to let him stick around and "see where it goes."

_Lord knows I can use all the help I can get. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy**** New Year! I hope you all had fun and safe holidays! **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	8. Chapter 7

"They say bad things happen for a reason  
>but no wise words are gonna stop the bleedin'."<p>

_**- Breakeven, by: The Script**_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

**_Chapter: 7_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV- <strong>_

Inside the hospital my nerves are erratic, and I feel like I'm on the verge of a panic attack. The smell of alcohol and disinfectant causes my heart rate to quicken. I feel it thumping so hard in my chest that I swear I can almost hear it.

I'm overwhelmed and devastated with tonight's circumstances, exhausted from my emotions and a lack of sleep, and terrified that Rosalie won't pull through. My biggest fear is not being able to save her.

Then there's the anger. The bitterness that I just can't shake seems to help even out my anxiety. I wipe my cold, sweaty palms roughly against my ruined sweatpants and graciously accept the scrubs Emmett is handing me.

"Thank you," I say softly as I quickly step inside the restroom and click the lock shut.

A soft sob escapes my lips, and I walk over to the sink to splash water on my face.

"She's gonna be okay…she has to be okay," I whisper to myself as I slowly shed my clothes and wash myself with a paper towel and hand soap. Once I've finished washing myself and have dressed in the blue scrubs, I rinse my mouth out with cool water and spit it back into the sink.

I look up at my reflection and barely recognize the person staring back at me. Gone is the happy, snarky, blushing girl who I once was. She's been replaced by this edgy, angry, defeated zombie.

"God, please let Rosalie be okay," I pray. I've never really been much of a prayer. I believe in God and Heaven, but I rarely attend church. Rosalie and I went to youth group together when we were kids, but we stopped once we got into high school.

I'm startled out of my thoughts when a sharp knock sounds on the door.

"Are you okay in there?" I hear Emmett's voice call from the other side.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'll be out in just a minute," I call back, and run my fingers through my hair as I absentmindedly throw it into a ponytail. I'm hoping it'll help me feel fresher, considering it's matted with tears and possibly vomit, but it doesn't. I can't be bothered with it now. Rosalie is my main priority.

My skin feels itchy and damp from washing it with hand soap, and I just want to jump out of my own skin.

Emmett's probably freaking out by now, so I decide to make my way back out and see if he's heard anything about Rose's condition.

I toss my soiled clothes in the trash and open the door to the restroom. When the lock clicks, signaling that I've unlocked the door, I jump, and then immediately chastise myself for being so skittish.

_You're not the one who was attacked, Bella. _

I step out and look up and down the hallway for Emmett, but he isn't there. I walk toward the ER entrance and see him just inside the doors talking to someone.

They're speaking in hushed voices, so I can't hear the conversation. I clear my throat and approach them slowly so they don't think I'm eavesdropping.

I stop walking when I'm a few feet away from them and they both look up at me.

"Edward this is…shit, I haven't gotten your name yet." Emmett realizes suddenly; the funny thing about it is I never realized I hadn't given it to him.

"Isabella, but I go by Bella, Bella Swan," I amend.

"Swan? You're Charlie's little girl?" The doctor from before walks up behind us, entering our conversation.

I turn toward him, immediately wanting answers, but I nod my head confirming that I am—in fact—Charlie Swan's daughter.

"Yes, that's correct."

"I'm Dr. Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet you, Bella. Your father speaks very highly of you," he says as he holds a hand out for me to shake.

I shake it and smile politely, waiting for him to talk about Rose.

"Excuse me for being forward, Doctor, but my friend. How is she?" I can't help but ask.

"We're still working on her; we've managed to set her nose and stop her internal bleeding, but she needed a blood transfusion and had several broken bones." His eyes flicker over to the other two and then back to me. "Bella, can I talk to you alone for a second?"

I nod my head dumbly, in shock of all the damage that Royce has inflicted on her body. I knew she was in bad shape, I mean, I _saw_ her…I saw the blood and the bruising and…_everything_, but to have it confirmed is absolutely devastating.

Doctor Cullen and I walk about fifteen feet away and by the look on his face, I can tell what he's about to tell me is not going to be good news. I prepare for the worst as he takes a deep breath and scrubs his hand over his face tiredly.

"Bella, normally I wouldn't be sharing this information with anyone other than my patients family, but I can tell that you and Rosalie are close. Bella…" He sighs and pushes forward. "Bella, when we examined Rosalie, there was evidence of a sexual assault." His gaze is firm and he looks angry as he tells me.

My mind goes blank and all of the blood drains from my face. I drop to my knees and throw my arms over my head as my body sags to the floor. I can barely breathe with the grief that is pressing down on me. It feels like my chest is going to explode with the emotions I'm trying to hold inside of me.

I rock back and forth as tears flow freely down my face and a strangled sob escapes my lips.

"Oh God," I cry as I slap my hand against the floor.

_He raped her…_

_He fucking raped her…_

_Royce raped and beat Rosalie nearly to death tonight…_

"What is going on?" Emmett bellows as he and his friend run up to us.

Carlisle is kneeling down beside me, trying to get me to breathe, but not getting too close. I'm flailing around tugging at my clothes and my hair, I push the heels of my palms against my eyes and then cover my nose and mouth as I cry my fucking heart out.

_Oh my God, Rosalie. What has he done to you?_

I close my eyes and bring my knees up to my chest as I wrap my arms around them. I lay my head face down onto my knees and cry, unable to speak or even breathe properly.

My sobs turn to hiccups and my emotions get the best of me as I try to gasp for air. I know I'm going to be sick again.

I start frantically looking around for a trash can to get sick in, but I can't find one. I quickly jump to my feet and run out the sliding doors to the parking lot.

When I find a patch of secluded grass I drop to my knees and dry heave. I have nothing left in my stomach, because I threw it all up earlier. So I'm left with powerful heaves that wrack my body and cause me to choke.

After I'm sure I'm not going to get sick, I sit back on my knees and look up at the sky. My eyes are overflowing with tears and I silently wonder how much a person can cry before they shrivel up and die.

_This is without a doubt the worst night of my entire life. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Angst...angst...and more angst. Sorry folks, that's pretty much what this story is all about. It's heavy, but every cloud has a silver lining, right? **

**Thank you PTB for betaing.  
>Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight, The Script owns Breakeven, &amp; I own this angsty mess. <strong>

**xxoo,  
><strong>**Missy**


	9. Chapter 8

"They said you ain't got a prayer,  
>a chance in you know where.<br>But I just didn't care,  
>when I looked in your eyes.<br>You were a long shot from the start,  
>an easy way to break my heart.<br>But as perfect as you are,  
>you've gotta risk it all sometimes.<p>

I believe in the underdog,  
>who chases dreams and breaks down walls.<br>The shy kid who gets the prom queen,  
>who's never been the star of anything.<br>Two lovers hitched at city hall,  
>they've got each other so they've got it all.<br>Call me a dreamer—say I'm a little naïve,  
>oh, but I believe—in the underdog."<strong><br>**_**  
>- Underdog - by, The Lost Trailers<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter: 8**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

I tuck some of the errant hairs that have flown into my face behind my ears and stand on shaky legs. Wrapping my arms around myself, I walk back into the hospital to find Emmett, his friend, and Doctor Cullen in a very heated conversation.

"I was the medic that brought her in, I understand that if I were a stranger you couldn't share this information with me, but I'm not." Emmett is arguing with Doctor Cullen, probably wanting to know what he just told me.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss Miss Hale's medical records with you, Emmett. You know that." Doctor Cullen's voice is firm, and he starts walking back in the direction he came.

"Whatever, Carlisle, that's bullshit and you know it!" Emmett snaps.

"Are you okay?" Emmett's friend asks me as I walk up to them.

This catches the doctor's attention and he turns around to look at us.

"When can I see her?" I ask the doctor timidly. Ignoring the previous question. I don't know how to answer it. _Am I okay?_ Physically, yeah, I am. But other than that, _no_, I am most definitely _not_ okay.

"Not for a while yet, but I'll let you know," Doctor Cullen says, and then turns and steps through the doors to the OR of the ER.

I drop down in a chair in the middle of the registration room. It's predictably quiet for a weeknight in Forks General. Resting my elbows on my knees, I scrub my hands over my face and begin to cry quietly again as I think about Rose.

Emmett and his friend sit on either side of me, and I feel Emmett's hand pat me on the back soothingly.

"It'll be okay, Bella. She'll be okay; Carlisle's the best doctor here. Trust me," he says comfortingly.

I didn't know much about Doctor Cullen except that he was a new doctor who transferred in from Chicago earlier this spring. I don't find myself in the ER as often as I used to, so I haven't had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. Unfortunately, this is not how I wanted to meet the good doctor.

"No she won't," I whimper as I sniffle, trying to suck my snot and tears up as I choke on my sobs.

"What do you mean?" Emmett asks.

"She—He…" I choke again, and this time Emmett wraps his arms around me as I cling to him and cry.

"He fucking raped her," I whisper-cry against his shoulder and sag in defeat as his muscles tense up.

"Motherfucker!" Emmett's friend snaps as he stands up and paces in front of us. It startles me and I flinch back.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to scare you…" He bends over in front of me as he speaks.

I nod. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm not normally so jumpy. I just…my emotions are all over the place," I explain.

"I'm Edward Cullen, Emmett's cousin. Doctor Cullen is my dad," he says.

I look up at him and hesitate before I ask, "Your father…he's a good doctor, right?"

"The best," he says with a very small crooked grin. Pride flashes in his eyes and it makes me breathe a little easier.

I believe Edward and Emmett when they say Doctor Cullen is the best in Forks, I just hope that he's the best, period. I know Rosalie is going to need a lot of help to recover from this.

"Good." I swallow and nod.

Looking over at Emmett, I ask, "Could I borrow your phone? I left mine at home when I…" I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. "I need to call my dad," I say instead.

"No problem." He hands it over to me and I step outside to place my call.

I dial my dad's number and he picks up on the third ring.

_"Hello?"_ he answers.

"Dad, it's Bella."

_"Bella, whose phone is this? Are you still at the hospital?" _

"Yeah, I'm still at the hospital. I'm using Emmett's phone, he's one of the EMT's that brought Rose in. He and his cousin are sitting here with me. Dad, I just talked to the doctor." My voice trembles and my eyes well up with tears again. I try to take a deep breath and breathe through it, but it gets the best of me and I let out a soft sob.

_"What is it, Bells? Is Rosalie okay?"_ he asks worriedly.

"He _raped_ her, Dad. He raped and beat her," I sob out and bite my lip harshly.

I hear his sharp intake of breath and what sounds like "_motherfucker!_" in the background, followed by a loud crash.

_"I'll be right there,"_ he says before the line goes dead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading! What do you think Charlie's gonna do when he gets his hands on Royce? Who would you be more afraid of, Charlie or Bella? Let me know! **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	10. Chapter 9

"On your own again, back to where it all began  
>The phone don't ring and the tears they fall<br>But you carry on and on and on"

_**- On Your Own, by: Green River Ordinance  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter: 9**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

I walk back inside and am intercepted as I try to return Emmett's cell phone to him.

Jessica Stanley in all of her gum popping glory is sitting at the registration desk and calls out to me as I approach Edward and Emmett.

"Bella, I need you to come fill out Rosalie's registration paperwork." She snaps her gum as she talks and smiles at the guys wantonly.

"Sure." I walk up and grab the clipboard with Rosalie's paperwork on it. Just as I'm about to head back to my seat she whispers, "Hey, Bella, you're not dating either of those guys are you?"

"No, I'm not," I say flatly, staring at her like she's an idiot.

"Didn't think so." Her smile is so big it flashes all of her teeth and she pops her gum again.

I roll my eyes at her as I walk back to my seat and plop down between Emmett and Edward. Sighing heavily, I begin to fill out all of the necessary medical and insurance forms for Rose.

Once they're completed, I set the clipboard in my lap and lean back, resting my head against the wall.

"Please just let this be a bad dream," I say to no one in particular and glance up at the infomercial that is playing on the tiny T.V. in the corner.

"Afraid not," Edward replies and nudges my shoulder lightly.

"You wanna tell me a little more about this Royce character so I can start looking for him?" he asks me quietly after a minute.

"Besides the fact that he's a fucking monster and I hope he dies from slowly spontaneous combustion tonight?" I growl out.

Edward ignores my rant and then proceeds to pepper me with questions. "Where's he from? Where does he hang out? Where do his folks live?"

"Uhm…" I blink, replaying all of the questions he's just asked and trying to make my mind remember everything and _anything_ to do with Royce.

"His parents died when he was young. He was raised by his grandparents, Mary and Jameson King. He's uh…named after his grandpa. He grew up in the Seattle area, but they—his grandparents and he—moved to Port Angeles when Royce was a sophomore in high school. He graduated from Port Angeles' high in 2004. He usually hangs out in Port Angeles. The nightlife in Forks doesn't exactly meet his standards, and he has dealers in P.A. So, that's where he usually is if he isn't here… Sometimes he goes to Sequim though, it really depends," I trail off.

"Oh, and uh…his grandparents are really wealthy. I'm not sure what they do. Rosalie never really wanted to talk about them, but I know that they're uptight and wealthy."

When I'm finally finished, I look back and forth between Emmett and Edward's faces. Edward is scribbling into a little notebook and Emmett is staring at the floor with a furrowed brow. I choose to ignore his facial expression and glance back to Edward.

"Does that help?" I ask worriedly.

"Yes and no. It's good to know a bit about his background. It gives me a general idea of where to look for him. But I need specifics. Names? Addresses? Phone numbers? That sort of thing."

"I don't have my cell phone with me, but Royce's number is in it. He hangs out with Ronnie Slatkin a lot; he's from P.A. I believe his first name is Laurent, but Ronnie is his alias." Edward continues to write as I talk.

"Ronnie has a girlfriend, Victoria Rex. They usually hang out with Royce." I sigh as I try to think of any more information.

"Wait a minute, Ronnie and Vicki, isn't that the name of the couple that got busted with drugs at that strip joint in P.A. a few months ago?" Emmett asks no one in particular.

"Now that you mention it, I think it was," Edward replies.

"Yeah, that's them. Royce was involved, too. But his grandparents paid a lot of money to get the charges dropped and made sure his name wasn't printed in anything," I confirm.

"This guy just keeps getting better and better," Emmett growls sarcastically as Edward jots down more notes on his pad.

A minute passes, and I'm startled by the automatic door sliding open. Charlie strides into the room with purpose, his wild brown eyes frantically searching for me. As soon as our eyes lock, mine well up with tears and I run to him. He catches me in his embrace and I cry into his neck as he holds my shoulders and rubs the back of my head.

"What are we gonna do?" I ask. My voice is raspy and choked off as I talk through my tears.

"I don't know, Bells. I really don't know," he murmurs as he tries to comfort me.

"Have you found him yet?"

_I know I shouldn't hope, but I do. God, I do. I'd give anything to have his ass in jail right now. _

"No, we're sure he's left town. He could be on his way up to Canada right now for all we know. But we're on it, Bells. We just don't have the men to do a full-fledged search." Charlie's voice is regretful but determined. He wants Royce locked up as badly as I do.

We hear a throat clear behind us, and I move to stand beside Charlie as I lean into him. He wraps an arm around my back, bracing some of my weight as I lean into him and I see Emmett and Edward standing in front of us.

"I'm sorry, Chief Swan. I don't mean to intrude, but I wanted to formally introduce myself and offer my services to help search for Mr. King. My name is Edward Cullen," Edward addresses Charlie.

"You're Carlisle Cullen's boy? The detective?" Charlie asks, surprised.

"Yes, sir. That's correct," Edward affirms.

"We'd be lucky to have ya on our team, son. Unfortunately, there isn't a lot the Forks P.D. can do right now outside of city lines. We put out an A.P.B for Royce, but nothing's turned up yet." Charlie and Edward talk strategy and cop lingo, and I finally allow myself to breathe a little easier for a bit.

Charlie sounds genuinely grateful for Edwards's assistance, so it makes me hopeful that Royce will be captured soon.

I chance a glance over to Emmett and notice his posture is a little less stiff. He looks relieved at how well Charlie and Edward are getting along. If I'm being honest, I am too. I was worried Charlie would think Edward was stepping on his toes, but that isn't what this is about. This is about catching Royce and getting justice for Rosalie, once and for all.

Something behind Emmett catches my eye and the automatic doors open again. I'm not at all prepared for what—or who—I see. When our eyes lock, my body stiffens and I'm filled with pure homicidal rage. I see red.

His smirk is twisted, and if the redness below his nose or the dilation of his eyes is any indication, he's done a bump before coming in here.

Standing there in all of his fucked up, evil glory is the devil himself.

Royce King.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading, you're all lovely. <strong>

**xxoo,  
>Missy<strong>


	11. Chapter 10

"Blue and black, heart torn out,  
>You uncover what's beneath my skin<br>There and back, there's no doubt, your touch is my medicine

I'll be okay, 'cause you heal me...

And I'll give you all my pieces broken  
>In your hands, there's nothing that you can't fix<br>My heart is frayed, my scars are open  
>So put me back together now, stitch by stitch<br>Put me back together now, stitch by stitch

What you say, without words, resuscitates what was numb inside  
>So repair me, every thread of me, 'cause you're bringing me back to life"<p>

**Stitch by Stitch - by, Javier Colon (The Voice)**

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>  
><em><strong>Chapter 10<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>

Thunder. Cold. Rage. Red.

Thunder is for the sound of the blood pumping in my ears as soon as our eyes lock.

Cold is how my body feels when my mind is finally done playing tricks on me, and I realize that he is actually standing here in front of us.

Rage is the overwhelming emotion surging through my body, empowering my mind and motivating my body to react.

And last but not least, red. It's what my vision tints when I jerk myself away from Charlie and attack Royce with every ounce of hatred I have for him.

I can't stop the feral scream that rips from my throat as I unleash my wrath on him. Scratching. Slapping. Kicking. Hitting. Punching him as he tries to grip my arms and hold me back.

When I first strike Royce, the others are stunned into silence.

"Stay away from her! If you touch her again, I'll kill you! Do you hear me, you mother fucker? I. Will. Kill. You!" I spit at him as I continue to swing violently.

When he grips my arms painfully tight, I knee him in the balls and throw my forehead into his face, smashing in his nose. I'm pretty sure everyone in the room hears the sickening crack as it breaks against my forehead. The impact makes me stumble backwards, but I'm determined.

I lunge at him again, sending us both to the ground. I grab his hair and continue swinging at his bloodied face. Just as I'm about to hit his nose for the third time, I'm hauled backwards by a set of strong arms in an unrelenting grip.

"You're not such a big man now, are you, Royce? You're a pathetic piece of shit!" I yell, kicking my legs in his direction, hoping to connect with an important piece of his anatomy—that could hopefully permanently incapacitate him.

Unfortunately, I only hit his side, and it's a weak blow compared to what I want to deliver to him. I'd curb stomp his ass right now if we were alone—and outside.

My breaths are labored, and I am still struggling against my captor. I realize it's Emmett who is holding me when my vision clears. Edward and Charlie are cuffing Royce and reading him his rights rather forcefully, but it's nothing compared to what I've just done to him.

Part of me is smug that I've just handed him his ass, most of me wants to finish what I've started—so he leaves on a stretcher…or a body bag—and a very small part of me is worrying that he could get out of jail and retaliate. The stupid—or possibly extremely brave—part of me isn't afraid for myself, though. It's afraid for Rosalie.

Royce knows I'd rather him come after me than her. I can defend myself. My father is a cop for heavens sake, he's taught me self-defense.

Rosalie—on the other hand—is not a fighter. I think that's why it was always so easy for Royce to manipulate her. Rosalie is trusting by nature, always wanting to see the good in people, even when all they've ever shown her is their worst.

There is nothing good in Royce, and nothing good could ever come from being with someone like him. He's evil incarnate. The devil himself. His soul is black and his heart is stone.

"C'mon, Rocky _Bell_boa, let's get you cleaned up _again_." Emmett pulls me away as they take Royce out to the cruiser and load him up.

My anger hasn't diminished yet, and I can't find any humor in Emmett's attempt to calm me down. I wish I had spit on that stupid fucker…_Royce_. I should have spit right in his stupid, ugly face before beating his ass.

I can't believe he didn't try to fight me. It's against his very nature. Of course, he probably saw Charlie standing behind me, and knew better than to assault the Chief of Police's daughter right in front of him.

I still would've kicked his ass, though.

I look down at the floor as my anger starts to give in to despair, and I see a small, dilapidated bouquet of carnations laying in front of me. Royce must've brought them to keep up appearances.

Right there…that one simple choice in flowers tells everything. Royce King is made of money, and he picked out the cheapest flowers he could find to bring to his long-term girlfriend who he just beat, raped, and left for dead. Not only that, but Rose's favorite flower ties between lilies, roses, and tulips. If he paid a lick of attention to her, he would've known that.

I growl in frustration and forcefully shrug Emmett's grasp off of my arms. "Let me go, Emmett. I'm not going to go after him," I say as I pull away and walk over to the flowers.

Normally, I'd pick them up and toss them in the trash, just to be polite to the hospital staff, but the idea of touching them makes me want to throw up. Instead, I brutally slam my bandaged feet against them, trying to decimate the poor excuse for a plant.

"Ugly. Mother. Fucking. Flowers from Satan!" I growl like the crazy person I am, stomping like there's no tomorrow before Emmett huffs and throws me over his shoulder, carrying me down the hallway.

"Put me down!" I snarl and beat my fists against his back.

"You need to calm down. You do know that if you get arrested they won't throw you in with Royce, right?" he quips, struggling to contain my thrashing body.

"Put me down, I swear to God!" I threaten.

"Now I'm definitely not going to. I don't want to be on the receiving end of what you just delivered back there," he retorts.

He walks into one of the full facility unisex restrooms. I see him headed toward the tiny shower alcove and panic, curling my body against his and biting down on the flesh of his middle back.

He lets out a loud curse and tosses me into the shower, quickly grabbing the detachable showerhead, spraying me with ice cold water.

The breath leaves my body as the shockingly chilly water wakes me up from my all-consuming rage.

"Em-Em-Em-" I try saying his name to no avail. The water is too cold for me to get any words out properly, and he's too afraid of me to divert the showerhead.

Thankfully, Edward shows up out of nowhere and grabs the sprayer from Emmett, shutting it off and lightly shoving him out of the way.

"I-I-I'm-I'm ss-ssorrry-y-y, Eh-eh-Emmett," I stutter.

"She's freezing up. She's gonna go into hypothermic shock. Go get something warm for her to wear, and make sure you bring back a juice or soda," Edward demands.

I flinch when he reaches over to turn the water back on, pressing myself closer to the tile wall and looking at him with fear in my eyes.

_Please, God, don't let him spray me with more cold water. _

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Bella. You've gotta get warmed up," Edward says in a soothing voice.

I swallow hard and nod, letting him spray me with warm water. I am already soaked as it is. What harm can come from it?

He toes his shoes off to the side, away from the flow of water before attaching the showerhead back to the wall, waiting for it to warm up.

After he peels his socks off, he steps inside the shower with me, and reaches for the showerhead again.

Edward gently sprays me with the warm water, letting it run down my back and all around me. Then he slowly attaches it to the wall again, making sure the spray is still warming my body. He reaches behind me and gently pulls the elastic band from my hair, letting the few remaining strands that haven't already fallen loose, spill down my shoulders.

"Thank you," I whimper softly as I look up at him with tears in my eyes.

He bends down a little closer to me and cradles my face softly. "You don't have to thank me, Bella. I know you're going through a lot right now. Emmett and I will be here for you every step of the way," he assures.

I shut my eyes, floored by his kindness, and unable to fully process it. I'm so thankful for Edward and Emmett coming into my life. I only wish we'd all met under different circumstances.

"Thank you," I whisper again.

"That's what friends are for, Bella."

_Friends. Rosalie and I are best friends, and look at how I've failed her. _

I think I'll always berate myself for what happened to Rosalie tonight. I doubt I'll ever forgive myself.

But when I look up into Edward's eyes and see so much warmth and kindness directed at me, I feel like maybe I could repent for my mistakes with Rose.

Like maybe eventually, after all of this mess is over and Royce is rotting in jail, everything just might be okay.

* * *

><p><strong>Love you guys, thank you for reading. <strong>

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	12. Chapter 11

"The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight  
>Maybe it can stop tomorrow, from stealing all my time<br>I am here still waiting, though I still have my doubts  
>I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out<p>

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing  
>With a broken heart that's still beating<br>In the pain, there is healing  
>In your name, I find meaning<br>So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on  
>I'm barely holdin' on to you"<p>

**- Broken, by: Lifehouse**

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<br>_Chapter: 11_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

My body finally stops shaking, so Edward excuses himself to find me a change of clothes and to see if Emmett is okay. A couple of minutes later, they both stroll into the large restroom.

I shut the water off and reach for the towel Edward is holding out to me. Emmett stays close to the door and eyes me warily. It's amusing to say the least. Emmett is easily 6'5" and probably more than 250 pounds of bulk and muscle. He could easily overpower me, but it's obvious that I've frightened him a little.

I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. "When you keep holding me back and pulling me away from people, I'm going to want to kick your ass." My voice is light, but I'm serious.

He should have known better than to keep pulling me out of each situation. First when I wanted to go in the O.R. with Rose, and on and on right up to carrying me off after my altercation with Royce.

"Yeah, but you _bit_ me!" he accuses with a look of horror upon his face.

I can't help but laugh at him and shake my head as I reach for my clothes. Deciding to ignore him for the time being, I direct my attention to Edward.

"You guys can go if you want. I'm going to get changed and see if your dad will let me sit in Rosalie's room."

"Hey, you may have scared Emmett away, but I'm not scared yet." Edward chuckles as Emmett huffs loudly and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Rude," Emmett mutters.

"Are you guys gonna get out, or do I have to change in front of you?" I ask.

Both of their faces turn red and they turn toward the door.

"We'll just be…" Emmett starts.

"Out here," Edward finishes.

I dress quickly in a fresh pair of scrubs and make my way back out to the hallway as I throw my hair up in a messy bun.

"You guys heading out?" I ask Emmett and Edward as they approach me.

"Emmett's gonna stick around, but I'm gonna head down to the station and make sure Charlie doesn't need any help booking Royce. I'd like to look at some of the evidence, too. See if he needs help with anything," Edward says.

I nod my head. "Okay, sounds good, I guess."

"Bella, you should know…Royce is maintaining that he didn't do this. He told Charlie that he's been gone all night and has an alibi. I'm assuming he was coming to scare Rosalie into staying quiet, or finish her off. Otherwise I have no idea why he would've come to the hospital." Edward looks angry.

"That's bullshit!" I sputter, getting ready to unleash a whole world of hurt on the next person that pisses me off. Emmett and Edward take a step back and throw their hands up in caution.

"I know," Edward cuts me off and continues. "I saw how he looked at you when he came in. I know he's guilty. He knows he's guilty. It really shouldn't be too hard to convince anyone else of that either."

I scrub my hands over my face and take a deep breath.

"Thanks for telling me," I say.

"I thought you'd wanna know," he responds.

"Well, Bella, let's go find Carlisle and see if he'll let us see your friend now." Emmett hesitantly wraps his hand around my shoulder and turns me in the opposite direction.

I glance back to see Edward leaving toward the E.R. "Thanks again," I call out to him. He spins around to face us briefly.

"No problem." He smiles and walks out.

I look up at Emmett and notice that even though his arm is around me, he's still got about a foot of distance between us.

"I don't bite, Emmett, I promise." I laugh a little at that.

"Bullshit you don't, I've got the marks to prove it," he grumbles, ..m,pulling me closer to him as he rubs his knuckles against the top of my head.

I chuckle and push him away from me, tucking my loose strands of hair behind my ear.

"Do you think Dr. Cullen will let us see her yet?" I ask worriedly.

"As long as we don't disrupt her sleep and she's been moved to her own room—I don't see why not."

We finally stumble on Carlisle near the coffee machine fifteen minutes later.

We ask him if we can see her, and he tells us we can go in as long as we're quiet. He also tells us that they've notified her parents, but they're out of town and can't return until next week.

Emmett is in total disbelief about how unconcerned her parents are, but I'm not surprised. Her parents haven't had an active role in her life for years. Rosalie and her older brother, Jasper, were practically raised by their housekeeper, Maria.

"Have you contacted her brother yet?" I ask. Jasper would want to know. Rosalie and he have always been pretty close; it wasn't until the last few years that they started to drift apart. It was right around the time Rosalie started dating Royce, now that I think about it.

"His last number has been disconnected; we have no way of reaching him," Carlisle replies.

"I can do it," I offer. "I have his number in my cell phone. I can see if Charlie can have someone stop by our house and pick it up for me," I offer.

"That would be great. Thank you, Bella." Carlisle's voice is warm and full of gratitude.

I nod and continue toward Rosalie's door, but before I reach it Emmett asks if I want to call Charlie quick, because he doesn't think I'll want to leave Rosalie's side once we go in there.

I agree and quickly make the call. It turns out that Charlie grabbed my phone earlier when he realized I left it at home. He tells me that he will sent Deputy McCall down to the hospital with it, and that he'll see me later, after he's finished with Royce's booking paperwork.

I make Emmett go into the room first, worried about how I'll handle seeing her. When he looks back at me, there's a deep sadness in his eyes, and I know that this is going to be extremely difficult.

If a guy like Emmett, who has never even met Rosalie before—and deals with injuries and such all the time, is this easily affected, this is going to kill me.

I step inside the room and my face immediately crumples as I take in her frail, battered form. She has tubes connected to her in various places, wires running in and out of the arms of her gown. Her head is bandaged and she has a cast on her arm.

Her face is swollen and bruised, and her nose is definitely broken. The sight of the tubing coming out of her mouth, feeding her oxygen to help her breathe, nearly brings me to my knees.

I rush to her side and gently pick up the hand that isn't in a cast. Tears flow down my cheeks and I sob as quietly as I can.

I bend over, resting my head against our joined hands as I close my eyes tightly and whisper brokenly, "Oh, Rose, what has he done to you?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I thought this chapter was going to be late, but thankfully the awsome betas over at PTB are being absolutely amazeballs and got this back to me super fast! Thank you so much, Lyta7 and BelleDean! **

**Hope you all enjoy & thank you for reading!**

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	13. Chapter 12

"This fire rising through my being  
>Burning I'm not used to seeing you<p>

I'm alive, I'm alive

I can feel you all around me  
>Thickening the air I'm breathing<br>Holding on to what I'm feeling  
>Savoring this heart that's healing"<p>

_**- All Around Me, by: Flyleaf  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass:<br>_Chapter 12_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Rosalie POV-<strong>_

_I'm floating into an abyss… _

_Nothing is harsh, or cruel, or mean in any way. Everything feels accepting and warm, like how I imagine tropical ocean water would comfort me as I sink into it. _

_I feel weightless, no pain. I'm not afraid of anything and I love who I am, unconditionally. _

_Nothing can hurt me here. _

_For so long, this is how I've yearned for my life to be. I've waited for the day when I wouldn't have to dread someone's arrival, or feel the vast trickles of fear creeping up my spine as I look into the dead cold eyes of the person who always seems to want to hurt me most. _

_But who wants to hurt me? Why would they want to hurt me? _

_I can't remember. _

_Visions of my past anguish threaten to creep up on me, but I push them away. Allowing myself to float and drift in my happy place. _

_Time stands still here. Everything changes at its own pace instead of the tick-tock of a clock. The sun never goes down, and it's warm rays make everything seem bright and cheerful._

_Suddenly, I feel a presence to my left side and an even warmer sensation in my hand. I squeeze it slightly, hoping to figure out what it is that can make me feel even safer, praying I can hold onto it forever. _

_There's a beautiful rose aura there and immediately I know it's my best friend, Bella. I smile at the swirling colors. _

_Unfortunately, as they often say, with the good sometimes comes the bad. The painless feeling slowly trickles away and my heart starts to race as I remember the fearful phone call I placed to her the last time I was awake. _

_The last time I remember anything. _

_When was that? Did she find me? Or did _he_ find me and kill me? _

_Maybe I was just in heaven, but am now being banished to hell for lying to everyone about what _he's_ been doing to me. Who is _he_? _Who_ am I so afraid of?_

Please, God, don't let me go to hell!

_Suddenly, my fear spikes as I see the face that matches those cold, dead eyes I'm so afraid of. Everything comes crashing back to me, the beatings, the rape and him trying to kill me. _

_I know who I'm afraid of, and I know what he's done to me. _

Royce King.

I gasp and choke on something that is crammed in my throat and I try to thrash on whatever surface I'm laying on, but my limbs are heavy and numb. I feel lethargic and delayed, like I'm responding to everything five seconds later than it's happening.

I glance to my left and see Bella passed out with her head resting by our joined hands. Her face is puffy and has red blotches on it, I assume from crying. When I look around the room I also spot a man with a large build and a concerned expression. He's staring straight at me.

Fear grips my heart; I'm scared that Royce has sent him to finish me off. My eyes look around frantically, praying there's a button I can squeeze to call for a nurse, but I don't find one.

He notices my discomfort and stands to calm me, but it only frightens me more.

"Don't be scared, I'm the medic that brought you in. I've been sitting with Bella all night, waiting for you to wake up. My name is Emmett, and I promise you that I won't hurt you." His voice is warm, and he looks honest, but I'm still unsure.

I nod slightly, letting him know I understand him, but I'm sure he can still see the trepidation on my face.

"I'll get the doctor," he says and quickly leaves the room.

I feel Bella shift next to me and I look over at her, realizing the loud, erratic beeping on the heart monitor must have woke her up.

"Rosalie!" she exclaims. "You're awake." Tears flood her eyes and she cradles my hand softly against her cheek with a warm smile on her face.

"You came back to us," she whispers between heavy sobs.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>

**I'm sorry that this is a week overdue. Life has been hellish, and I know you don't want any excuses, but for now—Hourglass will be updated bi-weekly. The only reason I'm doing this is because I don't have it on permanent assignment yet, and because my slacker tendencies—and time— get the best of me. Which makes it too hard to update every week. When I find 2 permanent betas, I will begin to post this weekly again, God willing and the creek don't rise. **

**Also, I will try to fatten the next few chapters up for you, for putting up with my B.S. I truly am sorry for the delay in the updating schedule. I get peeved when authors do it, so I understand if you decide to wait until this is completed for you to continue reading. **

**Thank you for reading and I hope you continue to do so. **

**Until next time.**

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	14. Chapter 13

"You think you got the best of me  
>Think you had the last laugh<br>Bet you think that everything good is gone  
>Think you left me broken down<br>Think that I'd come running back  
>Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong<p>

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger  
>Stand a little taller<br>Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone  
>What doesn't kill you makes a fighter<br>Footsteps even lighter  
>Doesn't mean I'm over cause you're gone<p>

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger  
>Just me, myself and I"<p>

_**- What doesn't kill you, by: Kelly Clarkson **_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass:<br>_Chapter_ _13_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

I feel the last vestiges of sleep slip away as I slowly wake up. My body is stiff, and I still feel really tired from sleeping in an awkward position at Rosalie's side. But all of my aches quickly fly to the back of my mind, and I let out a deep breath that I didn't know I've been holding. I feel a huge weight lift off of my shoulders.

Rosalie is awake, and most of all, she's going to be okay.

With tear-blurred vision and a sniffling nose, I leave the room with Emmett, allowing Doctor Cullen and his nurse the required space for removing Rosalie's oxygen tube.

"Officer Crowley stopped by with this while you were out," Emmett says once we reach the hallway and close the door. He turns toward me and places my cell phone into my hands.

"Thanks," I respond as I scroll through my contacts for Rosalie's half-brother, Jasper's, number.

"Wanna go outside with me? I don't have very good reception in here." I look up at Emmett.

He nods. "Sure."

We walk side by side in silence, and when we reach the parking lot, I hit the send button and wait for our lines to connect.

My stomach feels like it's full of lead, and I can feel the nausea creep back up on me again. In the back of my mind, I'm wondering how the hell a person can throw up so much without eating anything.

I know my sore stomach is just nerves. I am absolutely dreading having this conversation with Jasper.

"_Yello_?" he answers with his usual southern twang.

"Hi, Jasper. This is Bella, Bella Swan. Rosalie's friend," I say.

"_Howdy, Miss Bella. What can I do you for on this fine day?_" Jasper is always a laid-back, cheerful person. He is kind-hearted and friendly to everyone. It's going to be so painfully hard to hurt him by telling him this, but he deserves to know; Rosalie is his sister for goodness sake.

"Uhm, Jasper, there's been an accident…" I start, but he quickly cuts me off.

"_What? What kind of accident? Rose? Please tell me Rosie is okay?_" His voice is urgent, and I can tell he's frightened. Rightfully so.

"She's…she's okay. She's gonna be okay, but she's hurt pretty bad." My eyes well up with tears, and my throat feels like I'm swallowing rocks. The heat in my head is unbearable, and it takes everything inside of me to blink back the tears and fight the sobs that are threatening to break free.

_I need to be strong…for Rose._

"_What kind of accident was it, Bella? Was that idiot drivin' recklessly again? I told that fucker he had better be careful with'er and take care of my little sister,_" he says menacingly.

"It's worse than that. Royce. He attacked Rosalie, Jasper." It takes him a beat to process what I've just told him. As soon as he catches on, the silence is broken by a loud crash on his end of the line, and I hear him curse loudly.

"_Son of a bitch!_" he bellows.

"_I'm comin' home, Bella. Tell Rosie I'm comin', okay?_" His voice is full of desperation and panic.

I sigh heavily and grip the phone tighter to my face. Somehow, I know she'll be safer with him here.

"Thank you, Jasper," I murmur softly.

"_Thank you, Bella. For everythin'._" The line disconnects.

I give Emmett a watery smile as I attempt to pocket my phone in my pocket-less scrubs.

"Can you hold this for me, Em? I don't have any pockets," I say. He nods, and I give my phone back to him.

"Well, what'd he say? Is he coming up here?" Emmett asks after I get my emotions under control.

"Yeah, I think he's on the next flight out," I respond.

"From Texas, right?"

I nod. "Yeah, his mother lives there. He moved down there for college and decided to stay with her after he finished."

"That must have been hard for Rosalie."

"It was hard on both of them. They used to be really close. We hung out a lot when we were younger, but he moved away during our freshman year. They were close until we graduated. They wrote letters and called each other a couple of times a week. Rosalie and I even went out there and stayed a few times during the summer, but eventually they drifted apart. He wasn't ready for her to grow up, and she didn't want to live in his shadow anymore."

"I'm guessing Royce played a part in that?" Emmett asks.

"Doesn't he always?" I ask wryly.

Instead of answering, he leads me back inside the hospital, but we split up at the reception desk. He heads downstairs to the cafeteria to find us something to eat while I make my way back to Rosalie's room.

When I reach her room, the nurse is just leaving. She smiles warmly at me and tells me that Rose is still pretty sleepy and needs her rest. They have her on a morphine drip for her pain, so I'm not supposed to hang on anything she says. She's not lucid.

When I enter the room, Rose smiles as bright as she can with a bruised face and a busted lip. She motions me over to her with her un-casted arm, and I smile back as I softly grip her fingers.

"Bella," she rasps.

"Oh, Rose, I'm so glad you're okay," I say softly as I stroke her hair with my free hand.

She leans into my touch as if it is soothing her, so I continue to stroke her hair.

Suddenly she speaks again. "Charlie sent me weed."

My mind stalls, I'm momentarily stunned at what she's just said. I quickly do a scan of the room to see what she's staring at so lovingly. I locate a bright orange pot containing a wild looking spider plant. I chuckle softly at her and shake my head.

"No, Rose, that's a spider plant. It's not…weed."

"It looks an awful lot like pot to me, Bella. Look, there's hundreds of little marijuana plants on there." She pulls her hand free from my grasp and points toward the plant.

"Rose, I assure you, the chief of police did not send you weed for you to get well soon." I chuckle.

"Medicinal marijuana, look it up," she slurs/rasps softly.

"I'll definitely do that." I roll my eyes playfully.

"So, who was that big guy in here earlier?" she asks suddenly.

"Emmett. He was one of the EMT's that brought you in. He waited with me last night; he didn't want me to be alone."

"At first, I thought Royce had sent him here to kill me," Rose responds with tears in her eyes.

"He doesn't look bad though. You can tell when people are bad. Their eyes are bad, too. Just like them. Bella, did you know that the eyes are windows to the soul?" Rose rambles.

"No, I didn't." I've never seen her so talkative.

"He might not be one of Royce's hit men, but I bet he's packing." _Did I just hear her correctly? _

"What?" _Surely I heard her wrong._

"His wiener…I bet he's got a big kielbasa in there." She sighs thoughtfully.

_What. The. Fuck?_

"Pardon me for not being able to catch up to your train of thought, but why the hell are you thinking about Emmett's…_wiener_ right now?" I ask, slightly disturbed as I try to stifle a long overdue laugh.

"I'm just hungry, I guess," she replies with a sigh.

I try to shake the disturbing mental images from my mind. _There are some things you cannot un-think. _

"Royce's is like a _Mike-and-Ike_," she says after a brief pause.

I choke on my laughter as I hear a knock on the door.

"Come in," I call, still trying to recover from my laughter.

"Hey." Emmett smiles and walks into the room with some food.

"I hope you like sauerkraut," he says as he opens up one of the Styrofoam containers.

"Oh fuck," I wheeze and howl with laughter when I see kielbasa and sauerkraut sitting in the container.

"_Nice_," Rose says appreciatively before promptly passing out, leaving me alone to explain my hysterics to a confused-looking Emmett.

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Note:<strong> Yeah, I know...I'm an asshole. It's been forever since I've posted a chapter for _Hourglass_...but I'm seriously not giving up on this story. I have it all in my head and some of it is written. I know where it's going, the plot is all thought up...I promise you, this story will be finished...and will go back to it's regular weekly posting schedule. I just need a while to get caught up... I'm not sure exactly how much time I need right now, but I'm hoping to get all caught up soon. Thanks for understanding...and for continuing to read this. :-)  
>Also, to my new readers and everyone who has put me on author alert. I love you all HARD...exactly as much as I love all of my current readers. You're all the sprinkles to my cupcakes, and I'd be nothing without you. Each reviewalert put a smile on my face. So, thank you. Love you guys. *Blows kisses* You complete me. *Draws a heart in the air with finger* :-) *Cheesy grin* Okay, tootles babers'!

xxoo,

Missy


	15. Chapter 14

"And as long as I can feel you holding on  
>I won't fall<br>Even if you said I was wrong  
>I'm not perfect<br>But I keep trying  
>'Cause that's what I said I would do from the start<br>I'm not alive if I'm lonely  
>So please don't leave<br>Was it something I said or just my personality"

_**- Perfect, by: Hedley  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<br>_Chapter: 14_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

Explaining the kielbasa fiasco to Emmett proves to be difficult. Mainly, because I can't get a good breath between my obnoxious giggles. Every time he lifts a forkful of meat to his mouth, I find myself simultaneously cringing and giggling at the same time.

It doesn't bode well for me.

When I can finally spit out Rose's and my previous conversation, Emmett, who has just finished devouring his meaty treat, looks both bashful and horrified at the same time.

I can't help but laugh at the grimace on his face every time I slip a piece of meat into my mouth. For the first time since all of this pain and anguish started, I feel my chest lighten a bit, and hope starts to trickle into my heart.

_Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay. _

**. . . . . . . **

While making his rounds, Dr. Cullen comes in to check on Rose. I inform him that she said she was hungry when she was awake earlier. He makes sure that all of her fluids are okay, then tells us that a nurse will be in shortly to clean Rose up. He also mentions that they'll send some soup up for her.

That reminds me that it's been just over twenty-four hours since the last time I was able to properly shower and brush my teeth, and I cringe as I recall how many times I've thrown up since then.

When the nurse arrives to take care of Rose, I give Rose a quick kiss on her forehead. I tell her that I'll be back in a couple of hours to see her, and that I need to run home quick to freshen up. She understands and focuses her attention back on the nurse who is providing her care.

I feel okay leaving her side now, knowing the nurse will be in there with her and that Royce is in jail. However, I do still feel guilty that I can go home and take a shower, and she has to stay here. So I promise myself that as soon as I'm cleaned up and have all of my stuff done, that I'll return to her side.

Emmett follows me out and offers to give me a ride home. When I direct him to the house that my Dad and I currently occupy, we're both pleasantly surprised to find out that we live on the same street.

The similarities, however, end there. My house is plain, with white cracking paint and chipped gray shutters. Whereas Emmett lives on a newer, nicer, more secluded part of our street.

About ten years ago, Forks' town committee decided to work with a local development company and extend our road a couple of blocks and round it out into a cul-de-sac. All of the houses in the extended portion are, of course, much larger and nicer than the ones closer to ours.

I can't complain, though. I've never lived anywhere else, and this is the place I call home. A lot of people frown on an adult living in their parents' home, but I couldn't imagine being any place else. Home is my safe haven, away from the politics of school, work, and all of the other bullshit that infiltrates my life.

I hop out of Emmett's truck and run through the drizzle that is permeating the air to my front door. I grab the hide-a-key from the old rusted-out mail dispenser and let myself inside. I make sure to lock the door behind me.

My dad is still at the station, so I run upstairs and quickly find a fresh pair of clothes before I jump into a nice, warm, relaxing shower. I replay the previous night as I wash my hair for the second time, and my hands still as a chilling thought passes through my mind.

_Royce could very well be released._

It's not that I don't have faith in the system; I'm the Chief of Police's daughter for crying out loud. I believe in the system. But…it doesn't always work out the way you think…or hope it will. Sometimes facts get misconstrued or go unnoticed all together, and sometimes the guilty are freed.

Even though we're taught that the law is the "end all, be all" of our society, criminals are everywhere, and sometimes they're allowed to roam free.

_What will happen if Royce is released? _

_Will he go after Rosalie? To finish what he's started? _

_Will he come after me, too? What about Charlie? Will he hurt him to spite me, or possibly as revenge for apprehending him? _

The dread and fear sits in my stomach like a pile of lead as my shaking hands grip the shower knob and shut the water off. My hair and body are rinsed, and I step out into the chilly air of the bathroom. After hastily drying and dressing myself, I look outside and notice that my truck hasn't been returned yet.

Dad was supposed to have one of the officers bring it back, but I guess they haven't gotten around to it yet. After brushing through and quickly braiding my thick and heavy hair, I grab my phone, purse, and house key and head toward the front door. After I slide my feet into a pair of comfortable shoes and throw on a heavy coat, I lock and close the door behind me as I make my way over to Emmett's house. I hate to ask him for another favor, but I have no other way to get to my truck, let alone the police station, and I really couldn't walk that far in this weather.

When I approach the house he pointed out to me earlier, I see his blue Tundra, a silver Volvo, and a black Mercedes in the driveway. I'm hesitant to go to the door, not wanting to interrupt his company, but I'm really out of options. I press the button for the doorbell once, and I step back as I wait for him to answer the door.

I'm startled when I look up to see a beautiful, copper-haired woman smiling back at me.

"How can I help you, dear?" She smiles warmly at me.

"Uhm, I'm looking for Emmett? I thought that was his truck back there." I hook my thumb behind myself, and use it to point in the direction of the truck.

"You're in the right place, but I'm afraid he just went up to bed. Is there anything I can help you with, sweetie?" Her voice is warm and affectionate, and she truly seems like she would genuinely help me. But I don't feel right asking complete strangers for favors. I was already uncomfortable enough asking Emmett to cart me around. I was most definitely not going to ask this nice woman to.

I'd just have to see if Charlie or one of his deputies could pick me up.

"No. No that's okay. Thank you though. I appreciate it." I turn to leave when she softly reaches out and places her hand on my coat covered forearm.

"You sure you're alright?" she asks, concern flooding her vibrant green eyes.

I nod my head and smile at her. I'm not really sure what to say.

"Did you walk here? I don't see a car," she presses as I turn to go.

"Yeah. I live just up the street," I reply.

"Are you Bella?" she asks brightly, and takes a step toward my retreating form.

"Yes?" I say, but it sounds more like a question.

"I'm Esme, Emmett's aunt. It's so nice to meet you," she says as she reaches out and wraps me in a warm hug.

I'm caught off guard, but I wrap my arms around her and try to soak up a little of her warmth.

Typically, I wouldn't hug a random stranger, but this woman has been nicer to me in the two minutes that I've known her than some people have my entire life.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Esme," I say softly as emotion clogs my throat.

"Mom, what's going on, who is at the door?" I hear the voice before I actually see the person, and suddenly Edward steps out from behind the semi-open door.

"Come on, dear, let's get you inside. It's freezing out here," Esme says soothingly as she rubs her hands up and down my arms, trying to stop my body from trembling.

"I'm okay, I can walk back," I start to say, but I'm interrupted.

"I can drive you anywhere you need to go, Bella." Edward offers.

"I really don't want to impose," I reply, hating the idea of everyone taking care of me.

"It's no imposition. Come inside quick and get warmed up, and Edward will take you wherever you need to go," Esme soothes and ushers me inside.

"Thank you," I murmur softly as we enter the house and walk through the living area toward the kitchen.

The kitchen, dining area, and living room are all open to each other with partial walls defining them. The open concept gives a light and airy feel to the room; letting a maximum amount of natural light to shine in through the windows to add to the warm feeling. Too bad it's rarely sunny in Forks; the maximum amount of sunlight here is quite minimal compared to what they're probably used to.

I slowly take a seat at the counter as Esme fixes a pot of coffee, and I nervously play with my hands.

"If you're in a hurry we can go now." Edward offers worriedly.

I immediately feel bad for being so rude, and I quickly sit up straight and shake my head.

"No. No, sorry, I'm not in a big rush. I just don't want to impose on anyone," I explain.

"You're not imposing, sweet girl. I was hoping I'd get a chance to meet you. Emmett and Edward told me a little about you," Esme says as she retrieves the fat free creamer from the cabinet and pulls out the sugar shaker from a small cupboard above the stove.

After Esme places my mug full of steaming coffee in front of me, I pour in a little of the caramel creamer and stir my beverage. A few moments pass, and we blow on our drinks as we sip them gratefully.

"So, Emmett tells me you're from Chicago?" I ask to no one in particular.

"Yes, we are. I absolutely loathed living in the city. Carlisle and I traveled a lot, both together and separately before we got married. We always promised each other that we'd find a new place to set up our roots and really settle down. I guess it took us long enough to do it, but we're excited to start new. I can't wait to retire here." Esme's voice is bright and cheery, but I can sense a sadness in her eyes that wasn't there before.

"Well, if small town is what you're looking for, you've definitely come to the right place." I sip on my drink and offer her a small smile.

"Edward tells me your father is the Chief of Police. From what I've heard around town, your father is highly respected and very honorable; you must be very proud of him." Esme smiles.

I take another sip of my coffee before I respond. "Very. I've always been really close with my dad. He's taught me everything I know."

"Yeah, including how to throw a mean right hook," Edward interjects.

I raise my eyebrows in his direction and chance a glance back to Esme.

"I apologize for being forward, Bella, but…that man…and I'll use that term loosely right now. That man deserved everything you gave him, and more, if what my boys say is true. He deserved to get his ass kicked. Your friend is in my thoughts and prayers. I admire what you've done for her, and what you're continuing to do by protecting and helping her." Esme's voice is earnest, and her eyes are a little misty.

I swallow the emotional lump that's gathered in my throat and rapidly blink the fresh coat of tears that are flooding my eyes. "Thank you, Esme," I say softly.

In a flash, she's made her way around the counter to wrap me in her warm embrace.

"You're so welcome, dear. If you ever need anything—and I do mean anything—don't hesitate to ask one of us. We're all here for you, Bella. I firmly believe that for some reason, unknown to us, God meant for all of us to meet. There's a reason for everything, even the most horrible of situations."

My voice fails me, and I just nod my head at her as my lip trembles and warm tears leak from my eyes. I try to bat them away, but it's useless. Using my hand to fan my face, I quickly calm myself back down, and we return to sipping our coffee in silence.

Edward finishes off his cup and excuses himself to finish getting ready.

When I finish the rest of my drink, I stand and rinse my mug before placing it in the dishwasher, just as I saw Esme and Edward do seconds before me.

"I could've gotten that, you didn't have to," Esme scolds gently.

I ignore her admonishment and wrap my arms around her softly.

"Thank you, Esme. You and your family are extremely kind and rare people. Forks is lucky to have you," I say warmly.

I step away from her when Edward walks back into the room, and I shrug back into my jacket as he and I silently make our way to the door.

When I step outside, I'm immediately hit with a blast of cool, crisp air. The warm residual feeling from being inside the Cullen home slowly dissipates as I follow him to the silver Volvo parked at the end of the driveway.

We both climb inside of the car, and Edward immediately blasts the heat. I scowl as I look at the register that is currently blasting me with frigid air.

"Something wrong, Bella?" Edward asks.

"You do know that it only blows cold air until the engine is heated up, right?" The cold makes my voice sound harsher than I intend, and I'm immediately apologizing for snapping at him.

"I'm sorry! I'm just really cold, and my friend, Jake, and I have this argument a lot. I didn't mean to bite your head off. I guess I'm just really tired."

He reaches over to close my vents and revs the engine a bit to speed up the process of producing more heat for the inside of the car.

"I didn't know that, sorry." His voice is light and almost sounds amused.

A few silent moments later, Edward asks where I want to go and then pulls out of the drive to head toward the police station. I decide it's best to stop there before searching for my truck, just in case my dad has had a deputy drive it down there.

When we arrive at the station, my truck is not in the lot, so I decide to head inside and check in with my dad before I go pick it up.

When I enter his office, I hear him screaming into his phone about speculation and facts before he slams it onto the receiver so hard it falls off the desk.

"Bad time?" I ask nervously as he scrubs his hands over his face, looking very distraught.

"They're making me release him," he speaks into his hands.

"I'm sorry—_what_?" I ask as my mind shuts down, and the whole world seems to stall around me.

"Royce. If I don't get some proof that he is the person that hurt Rosalie, they're going to demand his release. Hell, they're already demanding it. The most I can hold him is forty-eight hours, then I have to let him go."

"But…" Words fail me for a second, and I stumble into his desk before catching myself.

"She's awake though! Rosalie is awake. She can testify that he did this to her, that's all the proof we need, isn't it?" I ask frantically.

"Maybe. If she'll testify. He's been hurting her for a long time, and she's never come forward before. I don't know how willing she's going to be to give him up."

"She has to. I mean, for her safety there's no way she can't _not_ testify, right?"

He only shrugs sadly at me.

"I'll talk to her. I'll make her understand," I vow.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the delay. Thank you all for sticking this out - unfortunately, sometimes you gotta have the filler to get to the good ole fashioned angst. Trust me though, more is coming. :\ lol**

**I'd like to give a shout-out to Minerva77, lady, your kind words fill me up and make me smile. Thank you so much for reccing my fics and honestly, for believing in me. **

**And for all of you who have been reccing this - and my other fics - thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. The influx of reviews has been cray-cray, and I haven't been able to answer all of them, but know that I read each and every one, and I love them! **

**I puffy heart you all!**

**xxoo,**  
><strong>Missy<strong>

**P.S. I'm curious to know who's POV's you're favoring. Bella's or Rosalie's. Let me know! :)) Tootles kittens. **


	16. Chapter 15

"Swallow it down, what a jagged little pill  
>It feels so good, swimming in your stomach<br>Wait until the dust settles  
>You live, you learn<br>You love, you learn  
>You cry, you learn<br>You lose, you learn  
>You bleed, you learn<br>You scream, you learn"

_**- You Learn, by: Alanis Morissette**_

* * *

><p><em><em>**Hourglass:  
><em>Chapter<em> _15_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

I didn't know what to expect when I arrived the hospital an hour after checking in with my dad, but Rose's flat out rejection to testify definitely wasn't it.

I can see the absolute terror in her eyes as I explain that Royce's grandparents' lawyer has been on the phone terrorizing Charlie all day, and that they're going to have to release him within the next forty-eight hours.

I try convincing her that the only way we can keep him behind bars is for her to testify, but she won't. She knows how big of a risk it would be to go up against the King family.

And at the end of the day, Rosalie thinks that she has a higher chance of getting away from Royce if she just moves on from it and lets him go his own way. Basically, she's telling me that even though he raped, beat, and left her for dead—she still isn't going to do shit to put him behind bars.

At first, I am furious. The rage running through me feels like a hundred little angry men running up and down my body, trying to crawl out of me and make me do violent things a young lady should never do. Like stomp into the Forks Police Department and beat Royce within an inch of his life.

Thankfully, Edward has accompanied me to the hospital, and he will not let me do anything so stupid and reckless. He tries in his own way to get her to cooperate with the investigation and testify, but she can't be persuaded. She stands firm in her decision. I grit my teeth and turn away so she doesn't see how angry I am.

I'm not mad at _her_, but the entire situation is eating me alive, and I need to find a way to blow off some steam. My internal rant is interrupted when my cell phone rings and Jasper's name flashes across my screen.

"I have to take this," I say over my shoulder as I step from the room and flip open my phone.

"Hey, Jasper." I sigh tiredly.

_"Hey, Bella. How's Rosie doin'?"_

My signal is a little muffled, so I make my way outside and sit on a bench. I fill him in on the latest development and Rose's decision to not testify.

_"Damn it, that son-of-a-bitch has her scared," _Jasper curses.

"I know, and I can't get her to budge. If she doesn't testify, there isn't any proof that _he's_ done this to her. I don't even think they could fine him." I rub my face and rest my elbows on my knees as I cradle the phone to my ear.

_"We won't let him get away with this, Bells. I'm on my way. I'm at the airport in Houston, just about to board. When I get there, I'll talk to'er, try to reason with'er," _he drawls soothingly.

I sigh and nod my head, even though he can't see me do it. "Okay, sounds good. See you soon. Oh wait, are you renting a car in Seattle, or…?" I trail off, waiting for him to answer.

_"Yeah, I already called ahead to reserve a car. No worries. See ya soon." _My phone beeps, signaling the end of our call.

I close my phone and put it back in my pocket. When I look up to the sky, I notice the clouds are breaking up and the late afternoon sun is slightly poking through them.

After taking a couple of minutes to soak up the rare sunshine, I blow out a heavy breath and head back inside.

My frustration is eating at me. I want nothing more than to go home, bury myself in my bed, and forget this entire situation. I know I can't, and it would be a really shitty thing for me to do. I just can't help but wish that Rosalie would finally stand up for herself and end Royce King's hold over her.

Just as I'm about to enter her room, I feel my cell phone buzz in my pocket again. This time, I quickly walk toward the waiting room as I flip my phone open.

"Hello?"

_"Yes, Isabella, it's Marianne Hale." _It's Rosalie's mother.

_Finally one of her parents returned my calls. _

Her clipped tone and formality instantly pisses me off. I've been best friends with Rosalie all of my life, and for the life of me, I have not been able to get her mother to call me Bella.

"Yes. Did you happen to get my messages?" I hiss, barely getting it out through my contempt for her.

Marianne Hale, for the length of time that I have known her, has always been a cold and calculating woman. She's a social climber, and she's more worried about her image in society than her own child. I can't count how many times she dumped Rosalie off at my house when we were growing up, just so she could follow her husband, Peter, Rosalie's father, around to whatever gala or political fundraiser he had to attend.

I can imagine that being married to a successful politician would be demanding, but even when she did have a little spare time, she never spent it with Rose. Rosalie found more of a mother in Jasper's mother and the family housekeeper than her own—and in mine, of course.

My thoughts are interrupted by Marianne's curt response.

_"Yes I received the messages. What is it that Rosalie has gotten herself into this time?"_ she asks snidely.

_Fuck you! You worthless, soul-sucking, pathetic excuse for a mother!_

My body shakes with rage, and I clench and unclench my fist tightly while I take a few seconds to breathe deeply. Acting irrational won't do any good, and if anything, this bitch is just baiting me. All throughout my friendship with Rose, her mother has always tried to make me feel like I'm just cheap trash, so she can look down her nose at me. This definitely wouldn't be the first time she's aroused my temper.

"For your information, Mrs. Hale, Rosalie hasn't done anything. She was attacked last night, and if you had bothered to listen to your messages, you'd know that she's in the hospital," I say through my teeth.

I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. _"I don't think it would be wise for Peter and I to cut our trip short all because she's fallen and bumped her head."_

… … … _I know it would be impolite to verbally kill her through the phone, but if it were possible, I'd be doing it. _

"Mrs. Hale, with all due respect, please clean the _fucking_ shit out of your ears and _listen_ to me. Rosalie was _raped_ and nearly _beaten_ to _death_ last night by Royce. She almost fucking died. I'm sorry that you feel no need to take time out of your social climbing extracurricular activities to come home and tend to your _daughter_. I really shouldn't have expected more from you, but if you feel the need, and it isn't too much of a bother, could you please pass the news on to Pete? I'm sure he'd like to know. Jasper is already on his way. Also, unless we move fast, Royce will be released within the next thirty-six hours or so. Not that you give a shit. Now, if you don't mind, I need to hang up the phone. You see, I have a best friend to take care of. Have a nice day, Mrs. Hale." I slam my phone closed roughly and drop down into one of the chairs.

_What the fuck am I doing? _

_How can I save someone who doesn't want to try to save herself? _

As I sit and stew on even more anger and bitterness, I think to myself, _I wonder if I could pull some strings and somehow throw Marianne Hale into Royce King's jail cell._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Let me know what you think. :)) If there's something you'd like to see more of, or y'know, that sorta thing. ;)  
>Love you guys! <strong>

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	17. Chapter 16

"I'm a Bitch, I'm a Tease  
>I'm a Goddess on my knees<br>When you hurt, when you suffer  
>I'm your Angel undercover<br>I've been numb, I'm revived  
>Can't say I'm not alive<br>You know I wouldn't want it any other way"

_**- Bitch, by: Meredith Brooks**_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass:<br>_Chapter_ _16_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

_Fuck this day!_

I grip my hair painfully, almost tearing it out by the roots in my exasperation, thoroughly messing up my braid. I can't bother myself to give a shit, my life just went from bad to worse. Rosalie isn't going to speak up about Royce, which means he's going to be released. The only thing I can think to do is get her moved out of that fucking place before he is let out.

Even though she refuses to protect herself, I still feel responsible for her. The girl obviously has no sense of self-preservation, which at times could be deemed admirable. Right now, she just looks like an idiot.

Throughout the entire duration of our friendship, I've never wanted to smack the fuck out of her and hold her tight, simultaneously. I'm guessing this is what having a sibling must feel like. You love them to pieces but at times you could just ring their God damned neck, but Heaven forbid somebody else touch them. No. Absolutely-fucking-not. If anyone is going to smack my "sister" around, it should be me. Lord knows I put up with enough of her shit on a daily basis.

I wish it were legal for me to just shoot Royce and be done with this mess. I could take care of the body easily, there has to be a pig farm around here somewhere. I once heard that pigs will eat anything if they're hungry enough. And honestly, who would think to look for him there? I certainly wouldn't.

I scrub my hands over my face and bite my lip as I try to calm myself down. Needless to say, it takes me a few minutes.

When I finally feel calm enough, I wipe my hands on my jeans and walk back down the hallway in that general direction. I give the door a soft knock to announce my entrance, and I slip inside. Edward is sitting in a chair off to the side of the bed, his elbows braced on his knees and his hands are twisted in his hair. He almost looks as irritated as I feel.

They've removed the bandages from Rosalie's head. She has one patch bandage over a spot on her forehead where they had to stitch her up, and her face is still swollen and mottled with bruises. But she looks more awake, more alive, than she had when she awoke earlier.

She waits patiently for me to speak. When I don't, she asks hesitantly, "Everything okay?"

"Not really," I snap, and I immediately feel guilty.

Her eyes become glassy with tears, and I have to look down at the floor because it becomes too painful to look at her.

"Don't cry," I murmur.

"I'm sorry…I know you're mad at me, but…you don't understand. He will come after me, Bella. He'll find me and next time, he'll kill me." She uses her less injured arm to wipe at her face, and I feel even guiltier for making her cry.

My feet fidget as I grind the toe of my right shoe into the floor, trying to figure out what to say next. I wrap my arms around myself to try and stay strong. Rosalie needs me to be honest with her right now. As much as ultimatums can suck, sometimes they're necessary.

"Listen, Rosalie, I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm mad at the situation. I fucking hate Royce for what he's done to you—what he's done to all of us. But that's just the thing, you can't just think of yourself right now, because you and Royce are no longer the only ones involved. A lot of people have put themselves on the line for you, and if you won't fight for yourself…think of them, fight for them.

I understand that you don't want to testify, and ultimately, that's your choice, but I won't sit around and let you go back to him. Because next time, he will kill you. Do you understand that? You will not survive being in a relationship with him. And if he kills you, I will kill him—or I'll die trying. So, this is the ultimatum I'm giving you; if you absolutely won't testify, you have to move out of there. I will go there right now, before he gets out of jail, and pack up all of your things and move you out. I'll bring as much as I can to my place, and I'll store the rest at your parent's place, but please, Rosalie. Please leave him for good."

As soon as I finish my tirade, she's nodding her head as hard as she possibly can and tears are falling freely down her face. I'm about to tell her to calm down when she opens her mouth to speak.

"Absolutely, Bella, you're right. I have to get out, and I didn't plan on going back anyway. I couldn't…go back there now. To that apartment…to him. I have nothing binding me there; my name isn't on the lease because he lived there before I did. Just grab what you can, don't worry about the rest. And leave my bed there…I don't want anything that he's tainted. I want nothing from him. But please don't do anything to his stuff, I don't want to give him a reason to come after me. I know how you are sometimes when you're angry, and I just…I really just want him to stay away from me. I can't…I can't thank you enough, Bella. Thank you so much for being here for me. I love you so much, you're not just my best friend, you're my sister…and I don't know what I would do without you." Her voice cracks from emotion, and by the time she's done speaking, we're both sobbing. I rush over to her and wrap my arms around her. I don't embrace her tightly, because I have no idea where all of her injuries are, so I just wrap her in a gentle embrace and stroke her hair softly.

"Everything will be okay, Rose. I'll protect you. All of us will protect you," I assure her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Short...but sweet? Like me! lol - Let me know what you think, lovies. **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	18. Chapter 17

"Anything goes  
>When everything's gone<br>You ain't around  
>To give a damn<br>Whether I do right or wrong  
>So bring it on<br>Anything goes  
>When everything's gone"<br>**  
><strong>_**- Anything Goes, by: Randy Houser**_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass:<br>_Chapter 17_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Rosalie POV-<strong>_

Fear. It's present in every single waking second of my life. Every time Royce gets close to me, my body freezes and fear trickles down my spine.

It hasn't always been this way. There was a time—much earlier in our relationship—where I could see myself settling down with him, marrying him, having his children.

It's hard to think I could have been so trusting, so naïve, and so very blind.

I suppose that's what love is though, _blind_.

I can never forget what he's done to me; he almost killed me.

The memories get more and more vivid the longer I sit here and think about it. The more I think about what he's done…

I can't stop thinking about him coming home drunk, shouting and accusing me of flirting with random men. Saying he was going to make me pay, and that he'd teach me not to be such a "stupid little slut." I'd always been an "undeserving whore" in his eyes, just a pretty face, too _stupid_ for anyone to _actually_ love me.

I always believed him, though. That's why I never left.

Royce has abused me for years, but it has never gone this far.

It was usually a slap here, a shove there; sometimes he would grab me by my hair or my wrist. I always tolerated it, thinking it was the alcohol and cocaine, and that if he could just get clean, we could be happy together.

I have been trying… Lying. Lying to myself, and lying to everyone around me.

I was wrong to think there was any hope for us—_dead_ wrong.

I lie here in the hospital while my battered body tries to heal itself, and I know I have to get away from him, once and for all, to free myself. I just don't know how to do that _and_ keep myself and my loved ones safe at the same time.

Royce is evil. He's a soulless man with a black heart.

He'll do anything to get his way…I'm terrified that he could even stoop so low as to commit a murder.

I just pray that he isn't that desperate, and he lets this go, so we both can go on with our lives. I pray that he lets _me_ go. That he really believes I'm undeserving of his affection and moves on to find someone else.

Maybe he could actually find a healthy relationship with someone he truly cares about, someone who can help him get help. Someone who could fix him in the way I've tried to for as long as I've known him.

I don't expect him to give me up right away, though. That's why I've agreed to stay with Bella or Jasper. When he gets back to town, I don't think he'll let me out of his sight.

It's been a blessing and a curse to have an older brother. A blessing because he's an absolutely amazing person inside and out—just like his mother.

And it's a curse because I was probably one of the last girls in my class to have made out with a boy.

Jasper always scared off my potential suitors. If any boy even took a second look at me, well, let's just say it never lasted long.

Unfortunately, his senior year eventually rolled around and he became more focused on which college he was getting into and less concerned with who set their sights on his unsuspecting virginal sister. I'm not blaming him for any of this at all, I just wish things would have turned out differently.

In an act of rebellion — and maybe a desperate cry for attention, I began dating Royce. He was the notorious bad boy who every girl fantasized about and every guy hated.

Jasper hated him immediately, and I reveled in it. I wanted him to worry, to care, to notice my existence. I felt like I was in the middle of a crowded room screaming at everyone around me, but yet, no one heard me.

Looking back on it, it really seems petulant, but at the time, it was the most relevant feeling in my life.

I felt suffocated and isolated, forgotten about but still completely dictated.

I hated it.

The only good thing in my life at that time was Bella. She's always been the ying to my yang. The loud to my quiet. The thoughtful to my impulsive. The brave and strong to my weak.

We complement each other, and we're always there for one another. I'm ashamed to say that she's usually the one that has been there for me. There hasn't been many times where she's needed me for anything. And even though I'm a few months older than her, I've always looked up to her.

Bella supported Royce and me in the beginning. She called me the beast tamer, and Royce obviously was the beast.

She often liked to joke about the fact that I went from not dating, to being in a relationship with the biggest bad boy in Clallam County.

Bella was right. Somewhere during that time, as I straddled the fine line of innocent child to blinded young adult, I fell under Royce's spell. I threw caution to the wind and disregarded every single warning sign and ounce of self-preservation I had in me.

I guess in the end, the joke was on me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Thank you so much for sticking with me on this! There's still a lot more to go, but I'm writing it chapter for chapter, so it takes time. I'll have another chapter posted within the week to make up for my absence. Chapter 18 will be a bit longer than this one, too. I truly am sorry it's been so long between updates, but we've had a hell of a summer, and as one of my favorite sayings goes; Excuses are like assholes, everybody has one and they all stink. So, yeah, lol. I'm not going to take up anymore of your time._

_Take care! I hope you're all enjoying your summer, may it be less stressfull and bullshit ridden than mine. ;)_

_xxoo,_

_Missy_


	19. Chapter 18

"You feel like a candle in a hurricane  
>Just like a picture with a broken frame<br>Alone and helpless  
>Like you've lost your fight<br>But you'll be alright, you'll be alright

Cause when push comes to shove  
>You taste what you're made of<br>You might bend, till you break  
>Cause it's all you can take<br>On your knees you look up  
>Decide you've had enough<br>You get mad you get strong  
>Wipe your hands shake it off<br>Then you Stand, Then you stand

Life's like a novel  
>With the end ripped out<br>The edge of a canyon  
>With only one way down<br>Take what you're given before its gone  
>Start holding on, keep holding on"<p>

_**- Stand, by: Rascal Flatts **_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass:<br>_Chapter 18_**

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

When I initially offered to go over and pack up Rosalie's belongings, it had been on impulse. I didn't stop to think about how hard it would be to return here, to see the scene of the crime and have to rifle through all of her things by myself.

Apparently, I'm not as brave as I thought.

I clench my eyes shut and take a deep breath, slowly letting it out before I grasp the cold metal handle and shove the front door open.

The room is dark and I jump as the door bangs into the wall from the force of my shove.

_Calm down, Bella, it won't do any good to put holes in the wall. Try not to do anything to infuriate that stupid piece of shit any further. _

My mind keeps playing those moments with Royce at the hospital on a rerun reel; it's like rewinding your favorite parts of your favorite film. Even though you know what the outcome is, you just can't help but watch it over and over again.

The only difference is, now I'm sitting with a lead weight in my gut. Worrying that I may have done far more harm than good.

Royce isn't the type of person to take a beating without retaliation. He also isn't the type to ever forgive and forget. Anything.

He fights dirty, and in one way or another, he always gets what he wants.

Deep inside of me, I know that he now wants to hurt me. It wouldn't be hard for him to do. He could go after Charlie, or come back for Rose. Any of those would hurt me far worse than him actually coming after me.

I _wish_ it was that cut and dry. I'd take the physical pain of whatever he probably plans for me over reliving anything that has happened in the last 48 hours or so.

I flick the light switch on and begin straightening a few things in the main room. Rosalie has always been a typically clean person, so there isn't much to do besides fixing some wayward furniture and wiping down the countertops and table.

Rosalie has instructed me to only grab the important stuff and her necessities: clothes, jewelry from family, photos, that sort of stuff.

My hands tremble as I use the soapy washrag to scrub at the blood that has been left on the frame of the front door. Apparently the crime scene cleaning crew hadn't seen that spot.

I scrub at it with vigor, using all of my arm strength to erase the angry red-brown spot across the trim, wall, and door.

My imagination taunts me and my stomach rolls as I picture what she must have gone through that night. I can picture him gripping her beautiful golden hair and slamming her face down onto the counter — even though, from what we can tell, that didn't happen. There's no blood or chipping on the surface, but unfortunately, the mind can make you see things — horrible things, and it always plays out the worst case scenario.

I imagine him landing a forceful kick to her stomach as she lays sprawled beneath him on the floor, pleading for mercy.

I double over onto my knees, grasping my middle and fighting for air as I choke on angry sobs.

I imagine his hands around her throat, gripping relentlessly, robbing her of oxygen as she begs and pleads for him to stop. My own throat constricts painfully as I gag and gasp, fighting for air and trying to push the visions away.

"Oh Rose," I whimper as I lean back on my knees, still struggling to catch my breath and clear my mind.

A jolt of fear tears through me as the door begins to swing open and I fall onto my back. A silent scream is all I can muster before a tall figure sweeps in and is immediately bending down towards me.

"Bella?" The voice is vaguely familiar, and I breathe a sigh of relief when Emmett's face comes into view.

"Jesus, Emmett, you scared the fuck out of me," I growl as I lay there and let my heart dislodge itself from my throat.

"Sorry, Bella," he says earnestly, even looking a little sheepish.

"What the hell are you doing here, anyway?" I ask as I get back on my feet.

"Edward and I didn't want you doing this all by yourself, and we figured you could use some boxes. After you left the hospital, he swung back to the house to pick me up and we grabbed some discarded boxes from the grocery store on our way over," he explains.

My emotions have officially run away with me. I find myself getting choked up over the fact that these guys, who are practically strangers to me, would go so far out of their way to help me. Couple that with the left over shakiness from a few minutes ago, and you basically have a blubbering Bella.

"Thank you, Emmett," I say softly. "It means the world that you guys would do that for us. Really."

"What are friends for?" His smile is bright and his eyes are warm, and I feel myself wanting to wrap him in a big hug. Instead, I reach out to squeeze his arm affectionately, but he pulls me into a hug anyway.

"As long as you promise not to beat me up again, I think we'll get along really well," he quips to lighten the mood.

I snicker and shake my head as I make my way into the kitchen. I set the wet rag on the counter and search the cupboards for any dishes that I know for sure Rosalie would want to come with her.

I find a couple of serving platters and candlestick holders that belonged to her great grandma Hale and an old mixing bowl that we've always used to make cookies and treats with growing up. I carefully wrap them with an old newspaper and place them into the boxes that Emmett brought up with him.

I hear Edward in the hallway and the sounds of cardboard banging around, so I quickly open the door and take a few of the boxes from his hands. He's completely loaded up with them, and it's a wonder he didn't fall down the steps, trying to lug all of those up in one trip.

"Be careful, please. I seriously don't want you to get hurt because you're helping me," I plead gently.

He gives me a crooked grin and plays off my worry, telling me that he's lifted a lot heavier and more awkward shaped things in the past.

For some reason, my mind jumps directly into the gutter and I can't help but laugh at him.

No giggles. Hysterical, ugly laughter.

He quirks an eyebrow up at me, and when my laughter causes me to snort, he joins in too.

I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I turn quickly to lug the boxes back into the apartment.

"What's all the funny business going on out there?" Emmett asks as we enter the apartment, still chuckling.

"Bella was showing me her best impression of Porky the Pig," Edward replies without missing a beat.

"Hey now! Is that a fat joke?!" I demand, pretending to be offended.

"No! No absolutely not! I-I was referring to your snort! Of course you're not fat, you're, well, you're b-" Edward stammers and stutters, totally caught off guard until Emmett interrupts him.

"Edward! Man, slow down there, you're going to give yourself a brain fart."

Edward is the one blushing now as he scowls at Emmett playfully.

"I know what you meant. I was just messing with you," I chide as I make my way into the living room and start packing up pictures and photo albums.

Suddenly, I feel as though I'm being watched, and I turn to find Edward glaring at me and slowly stalking in my direction.

"You really shouldn't have said that," he teases as he makes his way toward me.

"Edward! Stop! Emmett, help!" I squeal as I take off in the opposite direction.

I belatedly realize I've just ran into the bedroom, and I stop dead in my tracks.

Edward comes up beside of me, but I don't see him, I can just feel that he's there. The only thing I see is an instant replay of that night. Finding Rosalie lying in a pool of her own blood, as she struggles to hold on to the world around her.

My vision blurs with tears and I hear Edward calling for Emmett as he wraps his arms around me, trying to walk me backwards out of the room.

"Stop, Edward. I _have_ to finish packing her things," I plead as I push against his chest softly.

"It's _too_ much, Bella. You can't be in here right now. It's too much for you," he says softly as he swipes away the tears that are now flowing down my cheeks.

"All of her stuff is in here, _please_," I beg and wrap my arms around him, seeking a moment of comfort.

"We'll do it. Shhh, Bella, _breathe_," he coaxes.

"N-No! You don't understand. Everything that means _anything_ to her is in that room. I _need_ to go in there," I say adamantly.

"Okay, well, how about this. Why don't we finish packing the rest of her things from the main rooms tonight, and then we'll do her bedroom and master bathroom tomorrow. We'll come back in the daytime, open up the windows and let some fresh air in. It'll be like a completely different place." His voice is soft and coaxing, and I know I can't disagree with him. It is _too_ much for me right now.

"Okay, yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, I just…didn't think I'd have that kind of reaction. I've been struggling to rein in my emotions for the better part of the night. I guess it finally got the best of me." I nod and avoid eye contact as I explain.

"Bella, look at me," he says as he lifts my chin so I am staring directly at him. "Don't ever apologize for how you're feeling, or feel like you need to hide your emotions from us. We're not going to think less of you for being upset. Any rational person would be distraught right now. You almost lost someone very close to you. You don't have to be brave with us, Bella."

"He's right, Bella. And we're not helping you out of obligation or because we feel sorry for you. We're helping you because we want to be here, and because you seem like a really great person, who is going through a really shitty experience. Let us _help_ you, and damn it, quit thanking us every time we lift a finger," Emmett scolds playfully and then softly nudges my shoulder.

I blink a few times to clear my vision and swallow past the lump in my throat. "Thank you, guys," I whisper softly.

Emmett growls playfully and softly tickles my side as he makes his way over to grab another box.

"I'm sorry. I know you're sick of me thanking you, but you'll never know how much all of this means to me. If there's anything good that I'm taking out of this entire situation, it's a few great new friends. I really appreciate everything you guys are doing," I tell them, flicking my eyes back and forth between them.

"What are friends for?" Emmett asks with a dimpled smile as he leaves the room with his arms full of boxes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: _As promised, two updates in one week. Now have patience with the next update, we're having a slight beta situation - and I'm still a slacking h00r with a minor case of blockage. lol Don't worry, it's coming, slowly but surely. ;) :P _**

_**xxoo,**_

_**Missy**_


	20. Chapter 19

"Maybe I should take that picture off the dashboard,  
>before a memory hits the brakes and takes the wheel.<br>I bet she's still crying on that front porch.  
>Yeah, this time it's gonna take some time to heal."<p>

_**- More Than Miles, by: Brantley Gilbert**_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>

_**Chapter 19:**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Bella POV-<strong>_

Walking through the apartment has been going a lot smoother today. Edward was right last night to suggest that we come back during the daytime.

I guess it probably helps that Edward, Emmett, and my dad went to Newton's hardware store early this morning and picked up a huge stack of tarps, so they could cover the bloodstained carpeting.

It makes a world of difference for me.

It's still terrible. I still know the stains are there. Just below the surface of these electric blue tarps lies a sight that can literally cripple me. It's hard knowing that all of that blood came from Rosalie, and knowing that if she had lost much more she could've died.

_What if I didn't check my cell phone that night? What if I hadn't gotten the message in time? _

No matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about all of the "what might have been" situations, and it's exhausting me. The guilt is eating at me, and everyone around me knows it. They're trying to keep me involved, to keep me focused on mundane tasks like washing windows and bubble wrapping Rosalie's fragile belongings. It helps for a while, but then I remember why we're doing this in the first place and the fear creeps in again.

There is no guarantee that I can keep Rosalie safe once Royce is released. I'm a pretty moral person, and I wasn't raised to be some big vigilante killer, so I'm pretty sure I'm not going to end up shooting him. Unless it was self-defense or to protect someone else. Even then, it's hard for me to even entertain the thought of taking someone else's life.

Although it would definitely be easier.

I sigh and scrub the same spot over and over. I think if I scrub the window any harder it'll probably crack.

Suddenly, I feel a damp, protruding object being shoved into my ear. It startles me so bad that I yelp and fall over sideways, trying to jerk away from the offending ear invasion.

When I look up from my scrambled position, Emmett is standing above me with a big goofy grin on his face.

"What the _fuck_ was that?!" I shout, outraged.

"_Wet Willy_!" Emmett hollers with his right index finger raised high in the sky, still glistening with spit.

I quickly wipe at my ear with the sleeve of my shirt and quiver with disgust at the idea of Emmett's spit mingling around in my ear canal.

Edward stands off to the side with a sheepish grin on his face. My dad is standing beside him, mustache twitching as a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

"You all were in on it?" I accuse. My anger is starting to fade, but I'm still ticked off that they've all been plotting and scheming behind my back.

"No. Not really, we just saw him slobbering on his finger, and we didn't stop him when he proceeded to shove it in your ear," Edward explains, holding back his laughter.

"Oh really?" I reply cockily as I scramble to my feet.

My dad knows me, and I can tell the exact moment when he realizes I have something up my sleeve. He clears his throat and continues carrying the box he's holding out the front door.

Edward and Emmett, however, still have to learn a thing or two.

I pretend to brush it off and continue on with my cleaning duties. When I reach out for the broom that happens to be propped up on the wall next to me, I secure my grip and turn on the two unsuspecting asshats.

The look in their eyes is mischievous, practically screaming, "game on", and I get into a crouching position.

"Lube this, assholes!" I shout before I take off in a dead run for Emmett.

Edward would have been easier to battle as far as size is concerned, but he's a lot quicker than Emmett, and he's a more calculated thinker.

Plus, Emmett is still scared of me from the way I freaked out and bit him the other night. It's much wiser to go after the one who already fears you.

_Cue: Evil laughter. _

Emmett's eyes are wide with fear as he attempts to spin in the opposite direction and run away from me. Nervous chuckles escape his lips as he begs me to stop and frantically flails his arms and legs.

"C'mon, Bella. You know I was just fucking with you. Seriously! Please keep that thing away from my ass!" he rambles as he jumps over boxes and rushes through the apartment.

He forgets about the tarps in the bedroom and ends up wiping out, falling ass over teakettle onto the floor.

Thankfully, the tarps are relatively undisturbed, but when I see Emmett sprawled out and trying to scramble away from me, I burst out laughing and end up tripping over him.

"You…" I wheeze through chuckles "should have seen your _face_!" I gasp and clutch my stomach as the laughter tears through my body, leaving a good burn in its wake.

Emmett finally relaxes, no longer attempting to evade me and my wicked pursuits. He glares playfully in my direction and limply points his finger at me as the breath heaves in and out of his body. "You…are an evil woman, Miss Swan!"

He's laying flat on his belly, still gasping for breath when I take the opportunity to forcefully thwack him on his ass with the broom handle.

"_Fuck_!" he roars, completely taken off guard.

"What the _fuck_ was that for?" he demands, exasperated.

"Just keeping you honest, Emmy," I reply vaguely and carefully stand up.

_He called me an evil woman. I figured I should make sure I deserve the title. _

I keep my guard up and a close eye on Emmett as I head for the living room.

I pass Edward on my way out, he's leaning against the bedroom door-jam, watching Emmett and I with an amused smirk.

"What?" I chuckle softly at the look on his face.

"I've never seen Emmett get beat up by a girl _that we're not related to_ before. It's pretty funny," he replies with a soft laugh.

"Yeah, well, if you let him do anything like that again, it'll be _your_ ass that gets kicked next time," I threaten lightheartedly and straighten up some of the boxes that toppled over from Hurricane Emmett.

Just as I begin wrestling the flaps on a particularly full box, I hear a soft knock on the door, and I glance toward it as it opens slowly.

A million thoughts speed through my mind as I wonder who could be here. Emmett, Edward, and my dad wouldn't have knocked, Royce shouldn't be out of jail, and his family never stops to visit, so that would only leave one person…

My breath inhales in a sharp gasp and tears flood my eyes as I take in one of the biggest protectors I had growing up. The big brother I shared and the boy who gave me a pep talk after my first broken heart.

Jasper.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Kinda small, lots of filler. No fear - I'm getting my groove back. It just took me a bit to get back in the swing of things. I know where this is going - and I hope you love angst, because this story isn't even close to the tip of the iceberg yet. I know it seems like it's moving slow, but that's my imagination trying to get my brain to catch up to it and get all of it down - so it's understandable. lol **

**I promise, it'll pick up - and we'll actually get somewhere. Thanks for putting up with my shenanigans. Love you guys lots! P.S. Brantley Gilbert...omg, if you haven't heard his music - and you tolerate Country/Rock music...run, don't walk. I want to shake his sheets. lol ;) **

**Mini Disclaimer: I still don't own anything involved with the Twi-Franchise, and I definitely don't own Brantley Gilbert lyrics...or him in general. *Sads* **

**Tootles babes! **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	21. Chapter 20

"Addicted to the love I found  
>Heavy heart, now a weightless cloud<br>Making time for the ones that count  
>I'll spend the rest of my time<br>Laughing hard with the windows down  
>Leaving footprints all over town<br>Keeping faith, karma comes around  
>I will spend the rest of my life<p>

Catching my breath, letting it go,  
>Turning my cheek for the sake of the show<br>Now that you know, this is my life,  
>I won't be told what's supposed to be right"<p>

_**- Catch My Breath, by: Kelly Clarkson**_**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<br>**_**Chapter: 20**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Rosalie POV- <strong>_

You would think that everything I had been through lately would either turn me into a full-on basket case, or that I would be completely numb to my surroundings.

I guess I'm experiencing a little of both.

On one hand, I want to shut every single thing around me off and just…_be_. Just survive in a bubble where people like Royce don't exist and a place where men don't beat and rape the person they're supposed to love.

I can't though, because if I shut myself off from everyone and everything around me, I'll never be able to function again.

Royce will have every ounce of power he's ever had against me and my life will be over. Even if he isn't physically in it to torment me, he will be there in my nightmares, waiting for me to fall asleep so the attack can happen over and over again. I refuse to live like that. I cannot—no, I _will_ not—let Royce King ruin my life.

So when Doctor Cullen suggested that I talk to someone and seek professional counseling to deal with the trauma inflicted on me from the attack, I agreed.

I know I'm only one person. And I'm not strong and fearless like Bella. I can't put on a brave face and act like everything isn't falling apart.

I feel like I'm dying inside. I'm terrified every time I fall asleep that Royce is going to be there when I wake up. That he's just waiting to finish the job he started and kill me.

That's the main reason I won't testify against him. No one stands up to the King family and gets away with it. They're dangerous. I'm praying that if I walk away and just leave amicably that he won't come after me.

It's a huge leap of Faith, but it's all I've got. It's the only thing I have left to hold on to. Faith.

Well, that and the people I love.

I look over at the slouched, lanky frame in the oversized chair next to my bed and smile affectionately at my sleeping big brother.

I don't know when he got here, it was obviously when I was asleep, but I've never been happier to see him.

Just having him here beside me makes me feel stronger, and it gives me a sense of peace that I've rarely found since waking up after the accident.

Well, without the morphine drip, of course.

With a deep, contended sigh, I feel myself drifting back off into a deep sleep.

**. . . . . . .**

I wake to a nurse checking my vitals and changing the bandage on my forehead. She's gentile as she cleans my abrasion, and she asks me quietly how my pain is doing.

My mind is still cloudy with sleep, and I feel a bit discombobulated, so it takes me a second to register my surroundings. I shift slightly on the bed and a sharp jolt of pain shoots through my slung arm.

My body feels like a raging inferno, as fiery pain tears through my center, causing me to wince and gasp for air.

"You need to press this when you start to get sore," she scolds gently as she nudges my morphine drip button closer to me.

"I know, I just…I didn't hurt when I woke up earlier, but now…I feel like all of the medication has worn off," I say through clenched teeth as I try to silently endure the pain.

Tears sting my eyes and threaten to fall, my skin is heated and slightly damp, and my pain is so bad I feel like I am having a stroke.

I hear the heart monitor kick up a bit, showing my state of unease, and unfortunately, it causes Jasper to stir.

The nurse quickly pushes the drip button for me and dabs my face with a cool cloth, trying to soothe me.

"I'm sorry," I apologize meekly. "It just hurts so bad," I whisper to her, hoping that Jasper isn't fully lucid enough to hear.

"Sweetie, you never have to apologize for being in pain, okay?" she says sincerely and gently pushes my slightly damp hair away from my face.

"How is she doing, ma'am?" I hear Jasper's gruff voice address the nurse, and I press my eyes closed as the tears finally slip down my face, trickling into my hair and tickling my ears.

"She'll be okay. She's awake if you'd like to ask for yourself." She smiles over her shoulder at him and walks around to the other side of my bed. She adjusts the cushioned strap of my sling and makes me wiggle my fingers in my casted arm, before jotting down something in her notes and excusing herself from my room.

It takes me another full minute before I meet my brother's gaze.

His eyes must mirror mine perfectly, crystal blue, slightly bloodshot, and full of tears.

"Jas," I whisper brokenly, my voice chokes on a sob.

"Oh God, Rose, I'm so sorry. I am so Goddamned sorry," he cries and clasps my injured hand in his as he leans over me.

"What are you sorry for?" I ask as I weep. "You didn't do this to me."

"I shoulda been here," he says firmly. "I shoulda protected you," he grits as his tears spill over and splash down his cheeks.

I shake my head slightly, wincing in pain. "You couldn't have. You tried to tell me back then that Royce was bad for me, and I didn't listen. I thought you were just being overprotective. Please, please, Jasper…don't beat yourself up. You didn't know…you couldn't have known this would happen." I sniffle as I plead with him to understand.

"I still shoulda been here," he whispers as he rests his forehead against the side of my face, trying to get close without hurting me.

"You're here now. That's all that matters to me," I say resolutely.

"I'm not goin' anywhere either. I'll do whatever it takes to make you safe again," he vows and squeezes my hand softly.

And even though the black cloud of Royce's release looms over us all, I truly feel safer knowing Jasper is going to stay. Maybe it's selfish of me to be happy that he's uprooting his life to protect me, but I can't bring myself to regret it.

Jasper and Bella are my safe haven. They're my home.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's note: Sorry for the delay. As usual, life has been crazy.<em>**

**Tootles, Kittens!**

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	22. Chapter 21

_Disclaimer: I own nothing Twi-related, and I also don't own the lyrics posted below. I do own this plot, and ask that you do not copy, translate it, or any of that other business without my permission. Thank you. _

_**WARNING: This story contains mature situations including (but not limited to): Violence, Language, Sexual abuse, Mental abuse, Physical abuse, etc... Please do not read unless you're 18 or older. **_

Let's get on with it, shall we?

See you at the bottom, kittens.

Tootles!

* * *

><p>"Do you have to make me feel like there's nothing left of me?<br>You can take everything I have  
>You can break everything I am<br>Like I'm made of glass  
>Like I'm made of paper<p>

Go on and try to tear me down  
>I will be rising from the ground<br>Like a Skyscraper  
>Like a Skyscraper<p>

As the smoke clears—I awaken  
>And untangle you from me<br>Would it make you feel better to watch me while I bleed?"

_**- Skyscraper, by: Demi Lovato **_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>  
><em><strong>Chapter: 21<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Rosalie POV-<strong>_

Having Jasper here with me has been a lot easier than I thought it would. Bella has kept him busy with the move, and he's been trying to get everything settled for me before I'm discharged from the hospital.

Royce is still being detained, but I'm realistic to know that the clock is ticking. My conscience knows that time is running out for me, and I just pray that he's used the past couple days of sobriety to clear his head and move on from this.

I know we'll need to be prepared, and that's why we've all agreed that it makes the most sense for me to not stay alone until we know we're all out of danger. Bella, bless her soul, is a bit of a hellcat, and could've potentially made things much worse by attacking Royce when he came to the hospital.

I'm not proud of the fact that I'll need to practically be babysat for the next few months, or even possibly years, but I know it's a necessity. If anyone knows how dangerous Royce King is, it's me.

Royce is set to be released tomorrow, and they are working all night to make sure the apartment is empty of my things and not a disaster area for him to return to.

I can't help but think back to happier times, like when I started to see Royce. I saw a mysterious bad boy and I ran with it. I was such a fool to think that I could be the girl to tame him. Royce King is the equivalent to a lightning strike; completely mysterious and unpredictable, beautiful to see but deadly to encounter. He lashes out with an unprecedented force, a frazzled flame—turning everything he touches into chaos.

I was never a match for him.

Royce should've been with a strong girl, a girl who could actually put him in his place and stand up to him. Someone who wasn't afraid of him and would've shown it from the start. Somebody like Bella, who could stand her ground and fight for what she knew is right.

Instead, he chose me, the weak, amendable little girl with mommy issues and a smothering older brother. I was a perfect target for him. A punching bag, a body to use and bend at his will. I had always been at Royce's mercy. Where others saw danger and violence, I saw a project.

For the first time in years I'm finally admitting to myself that I could never—and would never have been able to fix Royce. I know I've done everything in my power to help him be a better person, and he's chosen not to.

Bella's been trying to get me to leave him for years, and I never told her how bad he was to me. I suspect she's always known, and therefore, always hated him. I can't even count how many times I tried to defend him, or how many times I tried to make excuses for the bruises and cuts she'd find littered across my body.

It's taken me so long to realize that every tender moment Royce and I shared—as of the past few years—has only been after he's done something horrific to me. Every soft kiss or sweet word has been uttered after he's raised his hands and struck me with them.

Royce was so sweet and charming in the beginning, but it didn't last, and that part of him as been gone a very long time. That part of Royce is dead, and maybe a part of me died with him. I know a part of me died the night he raped me, and I'll never see that part of myself again.

I was so naïve to believe that he would never hurt me in that way. Royce hasn't been soft or gentile in any aspect of our relationship since we've lived together, but he's never been as evil as that night.

When Doctor Cullen told me…that they found evidence of a sexual assault, I thought I was going to die. I felt like the one last shred of dignity that I had been clutching to had been ripped away from me. Thinking of it now makes my stomach turn and my mouth fill with saliva as a wave of nausea rolls through me.

_That _was when I knew there was no going back. I could never go back, if I did, Royce was sure to kill me.

And I vowed right there and then to never give him that satisfaction.

I vowed to never let Royce King break me again.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Thanks for sticking by me with this. My beta's and I are kicking it in gear, wait...they've always had it in gear, they're going to start kicking MY butt into gear, and hopefully this jabber will be updating more regularly. <strong>

**See you soon, lovies. **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	23. Chapter 22

_Disclaimer: I own nothing Twi-related, and I also don't own the lyrics posted below. However, I do own this plot, and I ask that you do not copy, translate, or do any of that other business with Hourglass without my permission. Thank you. _

**WARNING:** This story contains mature situations including (but not limited to): Violence, Language, Sexual abuse, Mental abuse, Physical abuse, etc... _**Please do not read unless you're 18 or older.**_

* * *

><p>"No words<br>My tears won't make any room for more  
>And it don't hurt<br>Like anything I have ever felt before  
>This is no broken heart<br>No familiar scars  
>This territory goes uncharted"<p>

_**- Uncharted, by: Sara Bareilles **_

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><p><strong>Hourglass<strong>  
><em><strong>Chapter: 22<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>-Bella POV- <strong>_

The past six weeks have been hell. Rosalie was released from the hospital a month ago, and I've been on edge ever since.

I know it sounds bad, but I wish they would've kept her in there longer. Things honestly wouldn't be so bad if I knew Royce King was rotting behind bars, but he's not. He's out there somewhere, licking his wounds and most likely plotting my revenge.

I sigh heavily and heave another large load of laundry into the washing machine. After dumping in the detergent and adjusting the setting on the machine, I flick off the light and make my way toward the living room.

Jasper and Rosalie are busy throwing lunch together in the kitchen, so I decide to take advantage of the quiet and rest for a bit in my dad's oversized recliner. Once my feet are propped up and I'm snuggled in with my favorite afghan from my Grams, I quickly start to nod off. Before long, I drift off into a deep dreamless sleep.

Suddenly, my shoulder is being jostled and I open my bleary eyes to find Emmett and Edward standing above me. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to figure out what the heck is going on, and I realize that it's almost dark outside. I managed to sleep the day away.

Using the palm of my hands to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I clear my throat as I sit up and ask, "Hey, what are you guys up to?"

"Eh, we were in the neighborhood, so we thought we'd stop by," Emmett jokes with a dimpled grin, causing me and Edward to roll our eyes at him as we chuckle.

"Missed me, did ya?" I retort with a grin and swat Emmett's arm playfully. I stand and toss the blanket over the back of the chair.

"Of course," Edward answers this time with an infectious crooked grin.

"Aw, you guys are sweet." I feel my face flush slightly and tuck my hair behind my ears as we make our way into the kitchen. Rosalie and Jasper are setting the table and putting supper out, so we grab drinks and go sit down.

"We called Jasper earlier and he invited us over to eat with you guys. And, well, you know me. I never turn down a home-cooked meal," Emmett says as he rubs his stomach.

"Emmett, Esme cooks for you every night," I return with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, but this is _Southern_ cooking," he says like it's obvious and overly emphasizes "southern".

I roll my eyes as I put a couple scoops of homemade macaroni and cheese on my plate.

Jasper chuckles as he listens to us bicker, and Rosalie smiles in quiet observation. She's been a lot more quiet than usual, which I guess is to be expected after going through such a traumatic experience.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about her, though. She hasn't been as spastic as I have—_I screamed bloody murder the other day when the microwave timer went off_—but she's been withdrawn and stares off into space a lot.

Whenever I ask her if she wants to talk, she tells me that I have enough on my plate and that she's fine. She says she's been discussing a lot of things with her new counselor, Maggie, and she's been helping her put a lot of things into perspective.

_Maybe I should see if I can get a Maggie of my own to help me, too? _

Suddenly, Rose jumps up from her seat and runs out of the room.

The table is momentarily stunned and I'm the first to snap out of it and chase her down. When I catch up with her, I find her bent over the toilet as she vomits violently. I hold her hair back for her and reach over to the sink for something to wipe her face with.

Jasper is standing in the doorway looking concerned, and I shoo him away before Rose sees him. I know she'd be embarrassed by all of the attention. He slowly walks away and shortly after, Rose stands and leans against the counter for support.

"Are you okay? Let me feel your forehead, maybe you're getting that bug that's going around," I say as I reach up to feel her face.

"I'm pregnant, Bella," she interrupts me and glances up at my reflection beside her in the vanity mirror.

"W-what?" I stutter in shock. I see my reflection in my peripheral and notice that my face is pale and my drooping eyes are round with surprise.

"I'm pregnant, Bella," she repeats in a softer yet firmer tone, and I notice the fear in her crystal blue eyes.

My body slumps against the counter as well and I hang my head low, trying to get my bearings.

"Are you sure?" I whisper, my voice trembles and my throat is tight.

"Yes," she whispers brokenly and whimpers as I slump to the floor in defeat.

Rosalie is pregnant with Royce's baby. She most likely conceived the night he…_hurt_ her. The little bits and pieces that she's opened up to me in the past few weeks tell me that that has to be the night she got pregnant. They hadn't had sex in over a month before that night, he'd admitted to her that he had been sleeping around and she told him she wanted him to get tested.

Fuck, if a guy screwed around on me I would've been done. We all know Rose and I are two completely different people, but I hate that she didn't feel comfortable enough to tell me all of this before. I wonder how long she's known she's been pregnant, but I decide not to ask her. Realistically, she couldn't have known for very long.

My body is trembling and I realize that I am completely filled to the brim with hatred for Royce. I mean, I _hated_ him before, but now…he's tied himself to her in the most personal and irrevocable way.

_Mother fucker!_

I quickly stand and help Rosalie get cleaned up before I walk her out to Jasper. She's crying softly and I just can't be the person to console her right now, not while I have this white hot anger pistoning around inside of me.

I make my way up to Charlie's bedroom and am unlocking his gun safe before I realize I've made the trek upstairs. I quickly make my way back down with one of Charlie's shotguns, and I walk with purpose toward the door.

"Don't wait up," I seethe as I grab my keys and fling the front door open roughly.

"Bella!" I hear Emmett behind me, but I pay him no mind. I continue taking quick measured strides toward my truck.

"Bella, stop right now!" Edward calls out with authority and I almost stop at the harsh tenor in his voice, but I'm too far gone.

"I'm gonna fucking kill Royce," I grit out quietly, and I throw the door of my truck open and toss the gun inside.

Just as I'm about to climb in, I'm quickly body-checked to the ground. I land face down in the grass and squirm under the hard body that's pressed against me.

"I'm giving you five seconds to get off me before I get up, grab that gun, and shoot you as well," I seethe.

I have no idea who is on top of me, it could be Jasper, Emmett, or Edward, but they're fucking with the _wrong_ girl.

"You're _not_ ruining your fucking life over that piece of shit," Edward spits back at me and easily contains my thrashing body.

"Get. Off. Of. Me," I hiss.

He finally releases me a little, and when I go to get back up, he knocks me back down. This time we're actually wrestling each other in my front lawn. I'm sprawled out beneath him, scratching and slapping him until he holds my hands up above my head.

"Stop fighting me," he growls as he moves his face close to my own. His nose presses dominantly against my own until unshed tears prick my eyes.

"Please let me go," I say as I stare up into his smoldering jade eyes.

"Never. I won't let you kill him, Bella. You'll throw your whole life away."

I groan and turn my head to the side as I release a huge defeated sigh. A few minutes go by and Edward is still straddling me, so I look up at him expectantly.

"Are you going to straddle me all night, or what?"

"Just making sure you're not giving me a fake out," he replies cautiously.

"I'm not," I respond quickly, unsure myself of whether or not I'm telling the truth.

"Okay then." Edward stands and offers me his hand.

I let him pull me up and fish in my pockets for my truck keys. When I come up empty, I look around for them.

"Looking for these?" Edward asks coolly as he dangles them in the air.

"Yes, can I have them?" I ask.

"Nope," he replies, popping the "p" and pissing me off.

"Edward, I am two seconds away from grabbing that damn gun and shooting _you_," I huff exasperated.

"I can handle myself," he replies confidently and stands his ground.

I glance back to the door to make sure no one else is outside, and when I see Emmett watching us from the kitchen window I turn back to Edward.

"Rosalie is pregnant," I say flatly, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"What?" he asks loudly, shocked at my admission.

I nod slowly. "She's pregnant with Royce's baby." My voice is sad and defeated. I walk over to my truck and climb inside to sit down. I curl my body toward the steering wheel as my tears start to fall.

Edward is immediately at my side and he turns me to face him as he wraps me in his arms. I openly sob into his neck as he rubs up and down my back.

"It'll be okay," he coos softly against my temple.

"No it won't. It won't," I cry. "My life is a fucking nightmare. I just want to wake up."

I whimper as I feel him pull me even tighter against him. "Just breathe, Bella. Take deep breaths and let it out," he soothes.

"I can't!" I snap and pull back angrily pushing the tears away.

"God damn it! I'm angry! You should just let me go and finish this once and for—"

My rant is quickly cut off by Edward as he pulls my face close to his and kisses me. I'm stunned for a few seconds, but then reality rears her ugly face and trickles over me like a cool bucket of water.

I push against Edward's chest, and out of anger, I reflexively slap him.

"What the fuck?" I shout.

"I deserved that," Edward relents and rubs his face.

"I know you don't know me very well, but let's get one thing straight right now," I speak evenly.

He nods, his ears and cheeks tinged pink, be it from the cold, embarrassment, or anger—I'm not entirely sure.

"If you're going to kiss me, it had better not be to distract me. You don't kiss somebody to get your way, you kiss them because you want to kiss them. I am not a toy, and I don't take gestures like that lightly. Now move out of my way before I knee you in the balls," I scold as I reach back for my dad's gun and hop from the cab of my truck.

I slam the door closed in annoyance and turn toward the house.

"Bella?" I hear Edward call out behind me, and I stop walking but don't face him.

"What?" I huff.

I feel him before I see him, he gently grabs the gun from my hand and tosses it onto the ground before he turns me toward him.

"What if I wanted to?" he asks, and my heart skips a beat.

"I'd say your timing is terrible, and that you hardly even know me," I reply evenly, not looking into his eyes.

"I'd like to. I'd like to get to know you, and for you to learn to trust me and get to know me, and maybe then you can decide if you'll let me kiss you again."

His words are sweet. I smile sadly at him and glance away from him.

"And the timing?" I pry.

"Life's too short to wait for this kinda stuff," he replies flippantly.

"Right." I roll my eyes and crack a bit of a smile.

"So?" he asks.

"So what?"

"Will you go out with me sometime? Just us? It can be as friends or whatever you're comfortable with. I enjoy spending time with you, and I'd like to know more about you—what makes you tick and all that," he answers truthfully.

"You sure you'll live to tell the tale?" I ask a bit smugly.

"You sure do keep things interesting."

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><p><strong>AN: So...*Peeks over large boulder* Remember when I said more angst was coming? I didn't lie...and I'm not lying. A lot more angst coming up. **

**I'd love to hear what you think. Please, leave some love...hate...hopefully, love though. :) lol**

**Next post will be in about two weeks. It's almost finished, but I need to leave time for my beta ladies to get'er done, too. :) **

**Take care, loves! Thanks for sticking with me! **

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	24. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Characters belong to SM, I'm just borrowing them for a little angsty fun.**

**Warning: This story contains graphic adult situations. 18+ please. **

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><p><strong>"I'll show you Love<br>I'll show you Everything  
>With Arms Wide Open"<strong>

— _**With Arms Wide Open, by: Creed**_

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><p><strong>Hourglass<br>**_**Chapter: 23**_

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><p><em><strong>-Rosalie POV-<strong>_

The stress levels in the house after I came out to Bella and my brother about being pregnant has increased tenfold. If Bella was jumpy before, she's downright cagey and paranoid now.

The only person who she doesn't seem to snap at is Edward. I envy the budding relationship that's growing between them, and I pray that he's good to her. Lord knows she deserves it.

I wish I could've been a little more prepared when I told her. I didn't mean to just blurt it out the way I did, but my mind was all over the place. I felt like I was going to explode if I didn't get the words out. I've never been good at keeping my own secrets, just Royce's really.

Nothing could've prepared me for the unbridled rage she exuded when she flew down the stairs with that shotgun in her hand. I was even more startled when Edward went after her in the front yard instead of Emmett.

Emmett is always looking out for her, for everyone really. He's kind of like a big bodyguard, but at the same time he's kind of like a big teddy-bear. I can tell how much he's come to care for Bella in the short time he's known her, and if I couldn't tell just by how they interact, I can hear it when he calls her "sis" or "Bells".

So when Edward ran full-speed after Bella and tackled her down in the front yard, I was left feeling shocked, intrigued, and curious. From the short time I've known Edward and Emmett, Edward has always been the quiet one. He's the observer, and Emmett's the extrovert.

Edward's actions that night spoke volumes. He obviously cared for Bella very much, and he was worried about her wellbeing and her future. Concerned enough to go head-to-head and toe-to-toe with an armed, furious, and terribly stubborn woman.

The second I saw her step off that last step with the gun in her hand I froze with dread.

Nobody crosses Royce King and lives to tell the tale.

By the time my brain caught up with what was happening, and I was just about to scream for someone to stop her—Edward and Emmett were already out the door.

Emmett, frozen on the front stoop, probably afraid of what it would mean to go after a pissed off Bella with a loaded shot gun. And Edward, one of the bravest people I've ever met, throwing caution to the _wind_ and knocking it straight out of Bella—and hopefully knocking some sense _in_to her as well.

They're both great men, in their faults and their strengths. I'll never be able to thank Edward enough for stopping Bella that night.

When they kissed out by her truck, the entire house fell silent. Emmett, Jasper, and I stopped breathing as we sat in frozen shock—awaiting what would happen next. I mean, one second she was sobbing, the next he's cradling her—and then suddenly—_bam_, he moves in and kisses her.

_Maybe I should've told Edward and Emmett how much Bella hates surprises. _

We were all stunned when she pushed him away and slapped him across the face, but he didn't look stunned. Not one bit.

After that, I placed my hand on Emmett's shoulder and tugged the curtain closed above the sink so we could no longer spy on them. Whatever happened between them was their business, and we had no right to watch as much as we had. As soon as we knew that Edward wasn't going to let her leave, and that Bella wasn't going to shoot him, we should've stopped.

Although, the chances of her shooting him probably doubled after that kiss.

When they came back inside a few minutes later, they looked content and calm. They stole glances at one another when they didn't think anyone was looking, it was really very cute. Seeing Bella Swan twitterpatted was a new, and very good look on her.

After they settled back inside for the night, and Jasper returned Charlie's shotgun to where it belonged, Edward and Emmett excused themselves for the evening, leaving Jasper, Bella, and me alone to talk out the recent turn of events.

To say I was scared shitless of the future would be putting it mildly, and I still am, but I'm taking everything day by day.

We decided to sit around the dining room table again. Jasper fixed me a light, quick sandwich that I picked at while I waited for someone to start talking. After a few awkward moments, Jasper finally cleared his throat.

"So…" he said, trying to get us to speak up.

"What are you going to do?" Bella asked quietly. She couldn't make eye contact, and she chose to stare at my sandwich instead of up at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not understanding her question.

"Are you…" She trailed off, looking frustrated as she gripped her hair and yanked on it before raising her gaze to meet mine. "Are you going to have it?"

"Of course," I answered without hesitation.

I refuse to hold the fact that the father is a monster against my child. Yes, the baby growing inside of me is half Royce, but it's also half me. I refuse to end its life just because Royce tried to end mine. I will not stoop to his level.

Bella swallowed thickly and dropped her gaze to the tabletop. I could hear her taking deep calming breaths, and I wanted nothing more than to soothe her, but I wouldn't budge on this. I refused to kill my baby.

Life is a gift to be cherished. I refuse to extinguish this light just because it stems from the darkest part of my life. This baby is the rose in the crack of my frozen sidewalk. It's beauty in pain, and I could never do anything to hurt it.

"Have you thought about this, Rose? _Really_ thought about it?" Jasper cut in where Bella trailed off.

"Yes." My answer was unwavering.

That was the last time we spoke about the possibility of terminating my pregnancy. It was also the day some of the light left Bella's eyes.

**. . . . . . .**

I know it's been hard for Bella to look at me since finding out about the baby. I'm not really showing yet, but baby fever is kind of in the air. Jasper says I have that glow about me, the one that screams, "I've got a bun in the oven" at least, according to him.

I know that in time, Royce will end up finding out about the baby. I can't stay locked up inside Charlie's house forever, and it's not like I can just run off and leave my life in Forks behind—besides, he'd probably find me anyway.

I haven't decided yet what I'll do when he finds out. I'm not so naïve to think that he would want to become a happy family, or to think that this would make him wake up and settle down. Being naïve almost got me killed once. If I want any chance at a happy future for myself—or my child—I can't be that same sheltered girl again.

Not that I think he'd drop his entire life just to search me out anyway, well, at least not out of _love_. If he wants me dead, he definitely would. I have no doubts that Royce would stop at nothing to make sure I was no longer breathing if he truly wanted me dead.

What I can't figure out is why we haven't heard from him yet.

_What are you waiting for, Royce? Why haven't you shown yourself, yet?_

Along with occasional sickness and mildly bizarre food cravings, I'm also starting to have really strange dreams. I haven't been able to remember much of them when I wake up, but the parts I do remember after waking quickly fade away as I become more alert.

The only reason I know I'm dreaming—and apparently quite vividly —is because Jasper, Bella, and Charlie have all at some point or another made comments about it. They've all heard me sleep-talking, seen me thrashing, or been woken from my blood-curdling screams.

Maggie tells me that my strange dreams are normal. She said that the change in my hormones could be attributed to it. She also asked me to write down anything that I can remember from my dreams, so that we could figure out what is subconsciously bothering me.

As if we really need to dissect my dreams, though. I have a psycho ex-boyfriend who raped and tried to murder me just over seven weeks ago. Pretty sure the trauma is still fresh, and I'm still freaking the fuck out.

Apparently mood swings are a part of the pregnancy process as well. Super.

Speaking of mood swings, my parents still haven't returned from their trip. Wherever the hell they are. I stopped caring a while ago. My mother has always been this…cold, but my dad was always her opposite. Where she was cold and cruel, he was warm and loving. I suppose it's normal for a little bitterness to creep in when you find out that your own parents have deserted you.

I could almost understand it if I had a habitual drug problem, or a police record, or just…was a murderous, terrible person, but I'm not. I'm their daughter I've done absolutely nothing wrong, except for fall for a terrible person. And technically, Dad shouldn't be pointing any fingers at me, because Mom isn't such a great person either.

_Any_ person that takes pleasure from another's pain _is_ a terrible person. But I don't really need them in my life, anyway. Not when I'm surrounded by so many good people. People like Bella, Jasper, Charlie, Emmett, Edward, and Doctor and Mrs. Cullen.

_Those_ are the people I _need_ in my life.

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><p><strong>Author's note: Thank you for reading. More to come in a couple of weeks. <strong>

**xxoo,**

**Missy**


	25. Chapter 24

**Warning: Rated Mature for violence, language, adult situations, etc… 18+**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding the Twilight franchise or the initial making of these characters; I just like to make them human and dump them in angsty situations.  
>Everything <strong>_**Hourglass**_** related and plotwise, belongs to **_**hottygurl7**_** — as well as the ability to come up with words such as plotwise. ;) See you below. **

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><p><strong>"All along it was a fever<br>A cold sweat hot-headed believer  
>I threw my hands in the air, said, 'Show me something,'<br>He said, 'If you dare come a little closer'**

**Round and around, and around, and around we go**  
><strong>Oh now tell me now, tell me now, tell me now you know<strong>

**Not really sure how to feel about it**  
><strong>Something in the way you move<strong>  
><strong>Makes me feel like I can't live without you<strong>  
><strong>It takes me all the way<strong>  
><strong>I want you to stay"<strong>

— _**Stay, by: Rihanna **_

* * *

><p><strong>Hourglass<br>**_**Chapter: 24**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>-Rosalie POV-<strong>_

Jasper has decided to stay in Forks permanently, so he's been searching for employment.

He went to school for culinary arts, and he's right at home in a fully stocked kitchen, but Forks doesn't really have a lot of demand for an overly qualified chef.

He's toying with the idea of taking a loan out from our father to open up his own restaurant, and I know he'd succeed, but I can't help feel a little guilty for keeping him here.

He should be showing off his talent someplace where he'll be recognized for what he does, instead he's here in po-dunk Forks, Washington.

Being pregnant seems to have unleashed a flood of guilt-ridden feelings inside of me. Maggie says it's normal for me to be going through this as well, but I hate it. I hate feeling guilty over things most people don't bat an eyelash at. And I hate feeling like I have to tiptoe around my best friend's feelings.

Bella isn't the one who was beaten, raped, left for dead, and then ended up pregnant. I am. Half of the time, I want to slap her, and the other half, I feel so fucking guilty for feeling that way that I want to scream, cry, throw my arms around her and beg her to forgive me for thinking such things.

Being pregnant stinks.

Flipping through the channels, I try to find something to occupy my frazzled mind and distract me as I spend a few hours alone in the house. Jasper is out looking for job opportunities, Charlie's at work, and Bella had errands to run. It's the first time I've been alone in the house for more than a half hour since I've moved in here, and to say I wasn't a slight bit nervous would be a lie.

Bella's paranoia is definitely rubbing off on me.

I settle into a comedy on one of the movie channels, and a couple of minutes later, the doorbell rings. My hands tremble and I instinctively place one over my stomach as I make my way to the door hesitantly. I'm immediately relieved when I see Emmett's large frame on the other side of the door, and I open it quickly, inviting him inside.

"Hey, sorry to just barge in here, but I heard everyone was busy today and thought you might like a little company?" He seems shy, and it's quite endearing to see such a loud, large, boisterous man seem so timid.

"I'd love that. Thank you," I say with a smile and wave my hand for him to come further into the house.

Instead of going into the living room, he makes his way into the kitchen and deposits a couple of grocery bags onto the kitchen table.

"I brought snacks," he says with a dimpled grin.

This is just one of the reasons why Emmett is such a great guy, he's always carrying around something delicious—and he's not so, so serious all of the time. He can be the biggest goofball and not have a care in the world if anyone sees him that way. He's not some big macho asshole, and he doesn't feel like he needs to prove anything to anyone. He just likes to make the people around him happy.

He's the polar opposite of Royce.

He's perfect.

I try to shake my head of the swoon-worthy thoughts and I clear my throat nervously.

"Sounds great, Emmett. What all do you have in there?" I ask as I peer into one of the overloaded bags.

"The usual; chips, peanut butter, Oreos, Cheeto's, popcorn, juice, hot cocoa, bananas, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, Pop-Tarts, Cheez-It's, Fig Newtons, and stuff to make S'mores." He turns to me with a sheepish grin.

"Holy shit! Why did you bring so much stuff? And how did you fit it all into these bags?" I move closer to the table and begin rifling through the bags in amazement.

"Pregnant ladies like snacks," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I have a few more bags out in the car." He grins and runs back outside for the rest of the stuff, returning with four more bags of goodies.

"You're kind of amazing. Has anyone ever told you that?" I'm smiling so big, my face hurts a little.

"All the time," he jokes with a smile and wraps me in a gentle, one-armed hug.

Being in close contact with Emmett tugs at my heart-strings a little. I think back to a couple months ago when I first saw him, I was all doped up on medicine, but from his size and unfamiliarity, I was sure he was one of Royce's minions—sent to finish me off.

I couldn't have been more wrong or misguided. I know it was a rational fear at the time, but now when I look at Emmett, I see so much love and kindness. I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to him.

He's firm and thick in all the right places, his dimpled cheeks and soft-clefted chin are to die for, and his dark brown hair is always in a slightly curly disarray. He looks more like a GI Joe than an EMT, and he's everything I never knew I wanted. Yet, I find myself inexplicably drawn to him, to his warmth. Emmett is his own massive ray of sunshine, shining on others and bathing them in happiness.

I'm the moth, and he's the flame.

. . . . . . .

"Oh, God, that feels so good," I whimper as he kneads his thick, strong fingers into my skin. I hiss when he strokes a particularly sensitive spot, and he softens his touch before moving onto another spot and pressing hard again.

When he finishes, he gently places my feet into his lap and I relax backwards with an exaggerated sigh.

"That was amazing!" I exclaim, dazed.

He chuckles and his face turns a lovely shade of pink, even staining the tips of his ears.

Bashful is a good look on him.

"Thank you for the foot-rub, Emmett." I smile and nudge his thigh with my right foot.

He nods with another shy smile and changes the subject. "Have you thought of any names yet?" he asks quietly, tilting his head toward my still fairly flat abdomen.

I shake my head. "No. It's still really early yet, and I don't want to jinx anything," I reply cautiously, my hand instinctively settling against my middle.

"Makes sense." He nods, and then he tries to lighten the mood. "You should totally name him or her after me." His cheesy grin is infectious, and even though I know he's joking—my heart still dances a little in my chest at his playful suggestion.

"I'll think about it," I respond with a smile of my own and wiggle my feet in his lap, silently asking for another massage.

"Woman! My hands are half-cramped from the last thirty minutes of rubbing. I think it's _your_ turn to rub _me_," he quips and waggles his eyebrows suggestively, looking like a loon.

"While the idea of rubbing your probably stinky, sweaty feet is _absolutely_ on my 'to do in the near future list' I can't help but notice _I'm_ the one who was just stuffed to the brim with sweets, and also has a bun in the oven, so without further ado," I quip and wiggle my feet again with a giggle.

He gives me a huge goofy grin as his strong, but warm hands begin massaging my feet again. My eyes flutter closed and I feel myself slowly drifting off to sleep, relaxed and more content than I've been in a long time.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading! Reviews = Love**

**Take care! **

**xxoo, **

**Missy **


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